


Escape from Under the Cypress Trees

by wanderingquill



Series: Rose Among The Thorns [2]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, OCs - Freeform, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-06-20 06:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingquill/pseuds/wanderingquill
Summary: Waylon and Miles have managed to survive Mount Massive Asylum and bring their soulmates with them. But can Miles's resources and Waylon's brains help them survive long enough to kill the Murkoff Corporation? Miles's didn't just go to the asylum because of Waylon's email. Who knows how far Murkoff's influence has grown from the top down in this country.





	1. Chapter 1

“Okay, I just finished a couple phone calls. We should be covered for a while. But we got a long way to go. So let’s put on some tunes!” Miles leaned over a little to flip on the radio on the dashboard. Nicki Minaj’s “Anaconda” started to blare from the lit middle consul.  
“♪...rode Motorcycles~♪

♪Dick bigger than a tower, I ain’t talkin bout Eiffel~

Real country ass N***r , let me play with his rifle.

Pussy put his ass to sleep, now he callin me NyQuill.♪”

Eddie literally leaned back in his seat and gasped aloud hearing the rapper’s lyrics. He belted out “How vulgar!” before the rap verse even ended.

“Yeah, a little graphic for this crowd I guess.” Miles conceded.

Miles’s turned the dial with his ring and thumb to the next station. Being extra careful as he moved to avoid tearing the scrap cloth Chris had tied around his index stump. Sean Paul’s infamous “Give it Up To Me” plays.

“♪From you look inna me eyes gal I see she you want me….Because you body enticing you making me horny.~♪”

Eddie scrunched his nose at the rapid beat and slang but he merely commented

“The words I can understand I do not care for.”

“Eh, his accent is a little over the top. He’s not for everyone. Next song you pick.”

Eddie huffed at listening to the song but agreed. Miles was busy trying to navigate the winding mountain roads to keep playing DJ. They were heading in a completely different direction than the one Miles’s came from so Miles’s complete focus was needed. Miles lowered the volume at least to make it easier to see the signs and make Gluskin stop pouting. Eddie grimaced at the music as he listened to the lyrics of “mack it upslap” and references to a swelling in the singer’s pants. Gluskin was not a happy camper but he put up with it as he admired the dull palette houses that littered the mountain town they were driving through.

Once they were out of the small hamlet, Miles changed the station again. Beyonce’s newest song “Freedom” echoed around them softly. “Hell yes. Queen B is on~”

Eddie listened quietly to the song for a while. He seemed to like it well enough, but he started to rub his temples two-thirds of the way through the song.

“What is it?” Miles asked as Eddie didn’t stop rubbing his head.  
“The lady has a lovely voice and the lyrics are strange but riveting but the drums. The drums are literally starting to hurt.”

Eddie looked genuinely sad to request another song change.  
“Oh, yeah, head traumas. My bad. We’ll have a little quiet time til your head stops.”

“Thank you.”

      It was dead quiet except for Waylon’s loud snoring and Chris’s heavy breathing for a while as they raced down a new highway. Only passing freight trucks and the occasional person late for the rush hour. Eddie eventually started to sing to himself his “I Want a Girl” song. Miles let him sing one full verse of it before trying the radio again. It was a fairly creepy song without the music behind it. Miles’s tried a local country station since it sounded the clearest as he played with the station options.

“♪I ain’t no high class broad.~

I’m just a product of my rasin,

And I say “hey y’all and Yee haw!” ♪“

“No.” Eddie’s face as solemn and unmoving as a death mask before the first chorus finished.

”Alright, no rebel country for us. Let’s try Hozier. He’s nice and mostly PG.”

His iPod wire was under Chris at the moment so, not an option. Miles pulled out his Hozier CD from the car door storage pocket. Eddie didn’t protest most of the songs. And they managed to listen to the whole CD after a while. Eddie waited until after they finished the record to give his two cents.

“I like his voice and one or two of the songs. But it’s not my taste.”

“Okay, what the hell is your music tastes man?” Miles asked, at this point, it was pulling teeth to find the right tunes.

“Traditional American?” Eddie stated, unsure if that was the “neat” terminology still.

“Like hip-hop Mozart?” Miles asked. He’s never heard any American music described as traditional, old-fashioned maybe. But most artist he’s listened to have all been shitkickers or flipping the bird at the traditional authority.

“Barbershop Quartet and soft Jazz.”

“Okay, I gotta couple songs you might like, but no more “I Want a Girl” and humming from you.

“Okay.”

     Miles for once was happy his uncle made him take his stash of Beach Boys CDs in his car door. That with his Disney covers mix cd and the Modern Jukebox cover CDs, they were covered for the rest of the ten-hour road trip music wise.

* * *

 

      After a couple hours of watching the beautiful scenery and traffic from behind locked tint black windows, Eddie got bored enough to lower the music volume to ask Miles something.

“How’d you get Talker to you know?”

Miles cringed a little at the misnaming again. They’ve been through this. But he kept his smile up as he responded back but kept his eyes on the road ahead. There wasn’t a lot of other cars on the road after rush hour, so he was only marginally pushing the legal speed limit. He couldn’t risk a cop stopping him with the current people in the car.

“His name is Walker, and he wants to destroy Murkoff as much as anybody.”

“I meant, how’d you get him to actually talk at all. Most of the patients before the riot just called him Talker because he doesn’t talk with anyone he doesn’t have to. Except when he’s beating up anyone who was stupid enough to pick a fight. And that was before the riot before everyone attacked everyone.”

Miles replied with a bit of deviltry in his eyes. “I charmed him with my wit.”

Eddie looked at Miles with an expressionless reaction, but his eyes said clearly “Yeah, and I’m Miss America. I don’t believe you for a second on that.” Miles didn’t even have to look at Eddie to feel like he was being called out on his joke. He then admitted.

“And it might have worked a bit better since my Omega scent calmed him down enough to realize I’m not a threat and his likely mate. Plus, he didn’t so much as attack me as he ran into me and we fell through a wall window when we first met.”

“....Omega scents can “calm” an Alpha?” Eddie’s face started to turn beets red as he remembered how excited Waylon became when he smelled Eddie’s heat sweaty skin. His Darling was an absolute animal the thirty-six hours they spent making love.

“Well, yeah. Mostly because I knew he sorta smelled familiar and I tried to check if he was okay when he blacked out from the fall. I cleaned his face of blood thinking I caused it when I fell on top of him. But Chris wasn’t much of a talker even when I told him what and who I was. He sorta just implied he messed with Murkoff and they made him a guinea pig before he could turn himself in and plead guilty to something that’d he had done as a guard.”

“Why’d you believe him and not my Waylon?” Eddie scoffed. He did have a point. Their both alphas, both claimed to have worked for the corrupt corporation and could have been easily lying about why they're helping Miles so they could sabotage the reporter. And well, Waylon for all his rough edges, looked like a carebear compared to the maimed musclebeast that was Christopher Walker.

“Because he smelled like home and helped me survive my way down to the basement after he told me about the batshit experiments. He said I shouldn’t risk it but I knew it’d be the key to ending Murkoff. If he wanted to protect Murkoff, he’d just kill me and smash my camera.”

“Where’s your camera then?” Eddie asked. He knew his eyes weren’t the most reliable but he didn’t remember seeing Miles with a camera. And seeing how Miles let Chris sit on top of his messenger bag, there is probably nothing breakable like a camera inside it.

“...It got damaged but I have my memory card and I stole all the in-house memos from Murkoff I could scavenge.”

“I’m assuming the “damage” that happened to your camera was what happened to both of your hands.” Eddie pointed back towards Chris’s talon-like hands. His arms resting over the gym bag in his lap, as the blood started to completely dry over his fingers and under the knife like nails. *

“No. I lost mine to some old nudist with pruning shears and a medical dissection fetish. Chris sharpened his nails before I met him. Didn’t get around to ask why. But for what messed up my camera, let’s just say it’s a miracle we aren’t full of more holes than a block of swiss cheese.”

      Eddie didn’t press for details. Didn’t seem polite to intentionally stroke old wounds, especially when the literal blood from the wounds was still clotting into scabs. And on that morbid train of thought, Eddie started to check Waylon’s vitals and his wounds. He found Waylon breathing normally and his heartbeat was still strong. Eddie slowly and carefully peeled away the veil bandage from Waylon’s leg. Most of the blood had completely scabbed over. Waylon’s wound was far more shallow then Gluskin originally thought. The stitchings still held most of the original injury together. Blaire’s attack had only ripped out the lower part of the wound. Eddie rewrapped Waylon’s leg with the other half of the veil from his vest pocket. Can never be too careful with cuts. Miles scrunched his nose in disgust as Eddie balled up the used blood scabbed lace and packed it into the side door pocket of his jeep. Miles muttered to himself how he was so going to splurge on a professional car cleaner once whatever this was, was over.

Miles was about to ask why Eddie had a veil to begin with when Chris’s blood sputtering coughs erupted from the back seat. Eddie turned his neck to welcome the bloody man into the conversation.

“Well hello Christopher, nice of you to join us.”

“Be nicer if you weren’t here.” Chris started to cough blood into his hand. The drippings fell onto Eddie’s gym bag in his lap. Eddie scoffed at the stains and pulled the handkerchief out of his breast pocket. He then twisted his arm back to hand it to Chris to cover his mouth.

“Well, I wish you didn’t snort blood on my things. But we are all making concessions here.” Waylon groaned as he started to fidget in Eddie’s lap.

“Please, no arguing. It’s too cramped for that. Waylon muttered as he rapidly blinked to the late sunlight pouring in around them. Being manhandled didn’t wake him, nor did the loud music, but the tense voices spooked him awake. Whether it was a reflex from his internalized trauma or just his peacemaker inclinations, it was anyone’s guess.

“Good morning Darling!” Eddie exclaimed with a grin. He wrapped his arms tighter around Waylon in a warm hug.

“Hey Park, we were just talking about how I met the big guy Chris.” Miles pointed a thumbs up towards the backseat in case Waylon forgot the quiet giant was still back there. They both slept for almost twelve hours and through some “creative” driving maneuvers on Upshur’s part. They might as well be waking up from comas.

“Yes, something about throwing him through a wall.” Eddie quirked an eyebrow as he described the vague encounter he was already given about the subject.

    Walker sighed after he finally stopped coughing blood out of his nose. “I was running and collided with Miles and flew into the window foyer thing. I landed on the couch and Miles landed on me.”

“What the hell would have “you” running Mr.Walker?” Waylon tilted his head back to ask the morbid giant. His own blood ran cold imagining that there was something even bigger and deadlier than Chris and Eddie running around Mount Massive.

”Language Darling” Eddie chided

Waylon shrugged “Sorry. But I mean, look at him! Walkerson could figuratively eat most guys for breakfast!”

“It’s Walk-er, not Walkerson. But I’m kinda curious too, Christopher” Miles said, glancing back at Christopher through the back mirror.

“The Cook was chasing me and trying to make me his next breakfast with a defective taser and a meat saw. That guy is small but he is scary as fuck.” Chris stated dryly. As if he was describing what he ate for breakfast is a bowl of cereal.

“Wait, I know the fear. The guy tried to jam my head into a lit furnace like a glazed ham. And having a weight advantage doesn’t mean much against surprise attacks and insanity adrenaline.” Waylon practically shouted in the small space. Sweat started to collect on his temples as he remembered the coppery heat from the oven as he frantically shoved against the boney cannibal. Eddie rubbed Waylon’s back and placed his other hand around Waylon’s hand. He probably didn’t even realize what he was doing, an Omega trying to soothe their rattled Alpha.

“The cook tried to fry me with a tiny heat taser. I threw him downstairs during the first riot for the trouble. So he was smart enough to try again with a real weapon when I was tired.” Chris explained. Scratching a piece of dead scab off his neck as he did.

“The guy must have been busy with you guys because I never saw em.” Miles shrugged as he quickly shifted lanes to avoid being stuck in the slow lane. More cars on the highway now, but the tinted windows should keep them from being gawked at for now.

Waylon snarked back. “Consider yourself luckier then. No nude cannibal wanting to eat your….butt.”

   Miles became mildly pissed because he felt like he was being belittled because he didn’t personally get his ass kicked by one specific patient. Miles snided back

“Try an old nude Hermann Stieve knockoff who sheared off my fucking fingers!”

    Waylon cringed as he remembered the old man’s corpse that he saw with dissected fingers. It might make Miles’s feel better to know he had broken the would-be surgeons' hands after he was pulled out by the soldiers. But he decided to stay quiet for now. Miles calmed down a little and decided to make it a game.

“So what about you Glue-Skin? Who was your psycho?”

“Upshur!” Waylon sternly shouted at the driver.

“What?” Miles asked, mildly confused at being screamed at. Eddie went very quiet for a moment but then responded.

“Myself actually. And honestly, any alpha who didn’t die during the first wave of the riots.” Miles nearly broke the pedal as he flinched at Eddie’s response. He’s never felt like a bigger dumbass. An unbond large Omega, likely unmedicated, left in an asylum full of equally unmated and unmedicated and off their fucking rockers wanting to get their rocks off or beat someone’s head in with rocks.

    Eddie continued “I know who you’re talking about Upshur. Trager, a man who only lived up the expectations set by his own first name. Childish jokes and horrible gallows humor that men like him usually have when handed everything.”

   Waylon stayed silent but rubbed Eddie’s neck hoping it’d keep him calm. But Chris’s breathing became heavier but not like he was coughing, it sounded like laughing?

“What?” Miles asked, not happy about not getting the joke.

Chris “laughed” a little longer before explaining. “His name is Richard. He’s completely batshit.”

“That doesn’t even cover the gruesome that is Trager. That horrible horrible man would hang mutilated genitals on strings from the ceiling in areas I’d scavenge canned food from.”

“O, my God.” Waylon softly said. His face twisted in disgust.

”Sounds like him.” Gruffed Chris, his face unreadable from the stiff clots of blood over the mutilated parts of his face.

Eddie continued. “He’d tie them up by the balls like hanged men. Even tie the knots in bows around them like bow ties just to annoy me.”

And Miles just bluntly stated while trying not to giggle.“That’s just fucked.”

     Eddie sneered at Miles’s language but answered back. “Vulgar, but I agree with the sentiment. As for dealing with “the nude cannibal” his name is Frank Manera. We were friends before you know. We worked in the kitchens together.”

“I doubt he was much of a cook seeing how he microwaved a man’s head before biting off a chunk of the guy’s chest.” Waylon swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat recalling that particular memory.

    Eddie rubbed his hand along Waylon’s back as he spilled Manera’s figurative beans. “He wasn’t. He helped with simple things like peeling potatoes while I helped the few staff members actually make the food. And well, I was just one of the few Frank still thought as “people” and not prey after the first riot.” Eddie shrugged, he didn’t know why Frank let him go as he pleased through his territory. But it sure was useful when scavenging for the canned food he’d hidden away.

    Miles plainly commented. “He probably just saw you as equal predators. I mean, you’re built like a brick house.” Eddie frowned as his eyes started to lose focus. Vague memories of his unhinged friend started to float to the forefront of his mind. Tiny specks of details and moments rising like the dusty debris from a disturbed pond bed. Eddie spoke softly, barely audible to even Waylon.

“I think the part of his brain that wasn’t destroyed just remembered my baking. It was the few things he’d agree to eat every day. Before the riot. It was a trial to get the man to eat. His lifetime drug use damaged his taste buds and his stomach lining.*

Chris leaned forward to butt in to give his two cents from the backseat.“Predator might be a stretch. He was more like a rabid chihuahua. If he wasn’t chomping on somebody, he was shaking and trying to not fall over."

“Well, he wasn’t frail when he tried to cut my arms off with a saw!” Waylon barked, his voice spiked so higher, almost cracking.

Miles rambled his train of thought out loud. “Wait, he ate people right? He might have Kudu! It’s a cannibal disease that rots the brain and literally makes you shake and feel super strong. But Kudu takes months to damage the brain….”

Waylon seeing Eddie get a dazed look in his eyes. He nudged the man’s hand on his thigh and asked.

“Penny for your thoughts there Eddie?”

Waylon grounded Eddie back into the discussion again. His eyes refocusing as he wrapped his hand around Waylon’s hand.

“I just remembered something. From last year. Frank was a chronic breaker of kitchen rules and never wore hard shoes. He paid for it when he dropped a dicing knife on his flip-flops and lost a toe. We managed to slow the bleeding using a lot of rubber bands and an apron to put pressure on it. I packed the toe in a disposable cup with ice and gave it to Frank before they hauled him to the asylum’s E.R.”

“Ouch.” Miles cringed.

”Ew.” Waylon stated as he connected two and two together for how Frank got infected with Kudu.

”Eh…” Chris shrugged, his eyes started to droop. He was half paying attention at this point anyway.

“Later, he told me his bones were too soft and they couldn’t attach the toe.I thought that odd…. Since Frank drank milk with my homemade sweets I baked for the kitchen staff and sickly patients every day. His bones should have been stronger than anyone’s.”Eddie’s lips twisted in disgust as he caught up to Waylon on what happened.

“Can we change the subject or just listen to the radio for a while?” Waylon asked abruptly.

“Yeah, we still got a while before we reach where we’re going,” Miles stated as he flicked the dashboard’s radio back on.

“Where are we going?” Waylon inquired.

“Wherever we’re going, wake me up where we get there.” Chris groaned before reclining back into the back seat and drifting back to sleep.

“I’ll tell you guys where we’re heading when we get closer. Just listen to the radio or nap because that’s still gonna be awhile.

** *Two hours later* **

    Chris was going in and out of consciousness for most of the time. But was awake now because he liked this Old Country music station. Eddie was snuggling his unmarred side of his face against Waylon’s hair. And Waylon was trying to not get a boner from being scented when he was in a cramped car with other people. He really really needed to give Eddie the talk involving Alpha and Omega etiquette.

“Now are you going to reveal our destination?” Waylon squeaked. He needed to stretch his legs sooner rather than later.

“We’re safe until we leak the information. We need all our heads and asses on straight before Murkoff can come at us. We need to get some medical aid. My family can help. They can get us meds and check-ups to fix up our shit.”

Both Christopher and Eddie flinched back at the term “check-up” for obvious reasons.

“Family?” Waylon asked.

“Sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles. My family runs a small live-in the facility for elderly latino and veterans. It’s not the rich man’s old home or a fancy rehab, but it has the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Luckily because it’s filled with old people they got x rays and crap on site to check if we’re like internally bleeding.”

     Eddie’s entire body tensed at the idea of being put into another machine. Waylon gripped the scared man’s hand tightly as he whispered. “Eddie, I’m here with you this time. You’re safe now. They’re gonna make sure you aren’t hurt. But I won’t let anyone hurt you. They just want to make sure you’re gonna be okay?” Eddie nodded. But understanding what Waylon was saying couldn’t change the ingrained fear reflex towards most medical authority for the abused patient. Waylon continued, but used a different tactic.

“They can make sure if we’ve made babies yet and if they’re okay.” Eddie wrapping his arms around his abdomen and Waylon out of instinct. The thought of hearing they could be starting a family excited and terrified him. The thought of Murkoff’s chemicals or damage to his body causing their unborn family to be unokay was horrifying. Nervously looking to Waylon then his guarded midsection.

“Okay, Darling. I’ll be brave. For you. For our children. ...Please just no invasive tubes or tasering me.” Eddie mumbled as he leaned closer to Waylon.

“What fucking procedure requires tubes and tasers?” Miles barked as he flipped off a minivan that cut him off.

“The Murkoff kind. It’s practically protocol for them. Cheaper than expensive monitoring machines for non-experimental tests and knockout gases. Speaking of procedures. Is there someone who can get the outside part of this mouth brace off?” Chris babbled as he scratched the scar tissue where they stapled the mouth brace to his jawline.

“O shit yeah. And they can check out that nasty allergy rash Eddie’s rocking too.” Miles gestured towards Gluskin’s head as he focused on weaving through the highway traffic.

“What?” Waylon asked.

Eddie responded, “Excuse me?”

“That’s a delayed allergy rash. It’s messed up as hell. My friend got something like it when he used his first rubber. His fucking body got covered in nasty bumps and rashy scales like Eddie but like waay worst. And on a much less fun area. His girlfriend thought he was decomposing when she woke up the next day next to him. He only woke up when she screamed and called 911.”

“That sounds positively revolting.” Eddie belted out. Waylon just scrunched his nose but made no comment at the morbidly vivid description.

“Yeah, well you’re lucky it’s just your face that got messed up.”

     The intensity of the glare from the backseat of the Jeep was intense enough to raise the neck hairs of the other passengers up front. Miles looked back using the drivers' mirror above. Chris might have been missing a most of his nose, and covered in scabs but even Miles could read the unsaid words “Yeah, fucking lucky JUST your face was damaged.” written across Chris’s face. Miles kept a side glance directed at the mirror as he drove the quiet highway.

“Don’t look at me with that tone. Your doctor bit off your nose. Completely different kind of fuckery. We’re both lucky to not look like famous chicago gangsters right now, so no silent sassing me from the back seat.” Miles explained as he stared down Walker in the backseat. Chris snorted but broke eye contact first at Miles’s comment. No point in fighting a stupid argument. He’s too tired to bitch.

“Fine.”

“Good. Now we’re going to a real hospital. It’s more like a retirement home with doctors. Everyone there is like Anti-Murkoff. Murkoff Asylum is this place’s evil twin, only really good people work here. So no weapons, no yelling or grabbing nurses who are trying to help us. Like, I know we’ve all been through some shit, but look at us. I’m scared of my reflection right now, so we gotta try harder to not scare them. I wouldn’t pick this place if I didn’t know 100% that they’d help us.” Miles firmly said.

“I don’t like strange people touching me.” Eddie meekly stated, curling around Waylon.

“I’ll be here, just try to stay calm,” Waylon whispered against Eddie’s neck before yawning. His breath tickled Eddie’s jaw as he spoke. Waylon’s eyes started to droop again as Eddie held him tightly.

“I don’t care who touches me as long as somebody gets the rest of this thing off my face and checks my teeth.”

“They will. Don’t worry.”

The blinking noise of the gas light broke the quiet tension.

“Hold on. Need to get gas.” Miles took a couple sharp lane shifts to get off on the next ramp. A dozen pissed off drivers were left in their wake. All them flipping Miles off as he drove by. Chris barely jostled as the sharp shift felt like it’d flip the car. Eddie’s eyes widened as he clung to Waylon and the elderly assist handlebar on the car door. Waylon himself was starting to drift to sleep again and just swayed a little on Eddie’s lap. His wound might have been less severe then they thought but he still lost blood and spent most of the last week pushing his body to the limit from heat, stress, or fear. He managed to drink all the remaining water bottles in Eddie’s bag over the long car trip but right now his need to pee was overwhelmed by his need to rest.

“Wait here. We aren’t people ready yet.” Miles explained as he pulled into the gas station

“You are?”

Miles snarked back as he unclicked his seat belt. “Compared to your rashy face, Waylon’s wound, and Chris’s face, Yeah. I’m picture pretty.”

Eddie’s lip tightened before he poked Chris awake.

“Upshur, wait. Use some of Blaire’s cash. Christopher pass me my bag.”

Eddie pulled the bag up and steadily yanked out two phones he handed to Miles before grabbing a thick wallet filled with cards and cash.

“Eddie, what is this?”

“Blaire’s stuff. Why?”

“Waylon WAKE UP.”

“I’m up, I’m up!” Waylon flinched at the shouting. He expected to wake up to gunfire or worse. His neck swiveling as he looked for what was going to attack.

“Look what your Omega brought with him.” Waylon neck shifts around the car, expecting some corpse part or bloodied weapon. He breathed easier for a moment to see Miles holding a couple phones.

“Phones?” He woke up expecting dead bodies in Eddie’s bag or a gunman and Miles shows him overpriced phones?

“Their Blaire’s phones. His own, and his company issued, the company tracked and monitored phones” Waylon’s face turned milk white. He gulped at the implications.

“What?” Eddie asked, still out of the loop.

“Can you take out the memory card?” Miles aggressively asked, leaning over the middle divider to show Waylon the phones. Waylon rubbed his tired eyes before studying the phones up close. He answered.

“Yeah, I just need to pry it open.”

“Hey Chrissy, get your claws ready.” Miles handed the phones to Chris, who ripped them in half down the sides like stubborn chopsticks. Before handing the remains to Waylon. Waylon fiddled with the circuits to remove the memory cards. Surprise surprise, the Murkoff phone had a cloning bug in the lining. As Miles went ahead to fill up the jeep tank with Blaire’s cash, Waylon went ahead to explain to Eddie why it was dangerous to have someone’s tracked phones with them.

     Miles at the pump tried to pay in small bills, but Blaire the prick only had fifty dollar bills in his wallet. He gave the attendant extra after he went inside the station store to buy a couple cans of leather cleaner and air fresheners. After breathing in the car oil scented fresh air, the inside of his car smelled like a mob body dump site. Miles head back into the car and told Waylon to hide the untracked memory cards in the fake cigarette lighter as he arranged the air fresheners. He then took the remains of all the phones and put them under the wheel path of his jeep. Getting back into the car, Miles then turned to the motley crew. He was beyond pissed. He’s almost been killed three dozen ways in the past week, they could have been tracked Murkoff to his family’s workplace, and to top it off his car smells like death and minty pines because he can’t open the windows without a dog walker looking inside and calling the cops. The stress had finally gotten to the jaded young reporter.

“New rule. Disclose all goods to just the four of us. Like, hey “ _Nice to meet_ yah _, I’m Miles. I have a camera memory card, gum, a couple bullets and a vagina that won’t quit_.”

The trio in the card was stumped silent at Miles’s weird commentary.

“I’m being sarcastic you assholes. Mostly because Eddie could have fucked us over. I’ve a right to be mad as fuck!” Miles slapped the wheel as they reached a red light near the retirement hospital.

“My family works here so NO MORE FUCK UPS. I’m looking at you Glue.”

“It’s Gluskin and I said I was sorry.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Well I thought I did. My memory gets mixed up sometimes. But I am sorry.”

“Apology not accepted until we’re done at the hospital.”

    It was a tense ten minutes as they drove the four blocks to the elderly live-in hospital. The river-view setting looked more like an American landscape painting of autumn than a real place. The building itself looked more like a large community center, practical but pleasant to look at. They drove past the front, down the roads to the backlot work entrance The entire building was modest but modern in style and overlooked the nearby river from a sloped hill. Chris and Eddie were too busy to admire the stunning view to realize the car was parked. It’s been a while since either man seen anything besides the menacing landscapes around Mount Massive Asylum. Mount Massive was mildly pleasant the first month of autumn but most of the year looked more menacing than soothing even in the daylight.

Eddie pushing his back in and out after getting out of the jeep. Groaning as he did.

“Eddie? You okay?”

“Yes Mr.Park. I’m just...sore and stiff. From sitting too long. And from, well you know.”

“Well you were parkouring a lot”

Eddie stretched his back and spine out by holding his hands and stretching them behind his head. Groaning as his vertebrae snapped into place again.

“Parkour I’m guessing is some sexual position you named after yourself? Then yes, I’m sore from thoroughly parkouring with you Darling.”

Waylon almost crying from trying not to laugh.“Eddie, Eddie o my god Eddie”

"You had me, in many many positions Darling. I'm not as limber as I should be. It’s a miracle I didn’t pull something yesterday"

Luckily it was well after morning visiting hours, so the parking lot was mostly empty of visitors. Miles was huffing air, with his hands on his knees after he finally finished liberating Chris from his back seat. Looking up, he saw one of his beautiful and furious latina cousins with a small swarm of nurses. He was thankful at least that walrider swarm was napping in his truck engine for the moment after patching his stomach and running his car.

“Hiya Ava, you look nice.”

“Don’t you start Leche Boy. I said I’d help fix you and your group up because you’re trying to help people. But you still have some splaining to do to me and your madre.”

Miles’s heart stopped at the mention of his mother. He clasped his hands together and pleaded to his cousin. “Ava, please don’t call Ma, please. That’s putting oil on a fire.”

“Then tell me how “this” all happened later gasparin.” She gestured to the obvious finger stumps and Chris standing behind Miles. “But first. Showers. You reek and the wildlife here are falling out of the trees downwind from you four.”

       Miles spoke rapid fast Spanish to the other nurses explaining to them the status report of their injuries as they walked. While the group of nurses tried to sneak them all to the doctor’s locker room through the staff entrance. Emphasis on tried. Between Waylon’s hobbling while leaning against Gluskin the mountain of a man Walker’s heavy feet and the smell of all of them it was a miracle no one called the police. Luckily due to bad short-term memories and bad eyesight of the long-term residents, the only comments were about the foul smell that wafted in hallways.

   Ava explained to the group as they entered the doctor’s locker room for the large hospital. “My cousin told me a bunch of B.S. But if y’all coming from somewhere with experimental chemicals, we insist you all shower immediately unless you need immediate attention. And by the looks of it, Miles, Jumpsuit and Smiles over there need it.”

    The male doctor’s locker room was pretty standard for any locker room/shower combo. Lockers, benches, mild smell of tile cleaner and socks. But it looked like a high-end spa compared to the nicer rooms at Murkoff. Two elderly soft faced men with dull lab coats were there waiting with traveling doctor bags and towels. The men looked like vintage illustrations depicting someone grandfather. Their faces worn wrinkly and thin from time but a spark of a smile in their eyes.

“Hi, I’m doctor Lars and this is doctor Lace. Ava said some fine boys needed some stitchings?”

“And I was told I needed to examine an animal attack victim who face had gotten badly bitten.”

Miles stated. “I just need my not-fingers looked at, Blondie needs his leg stitched and my big guy here is for lacy.”

Dr.Lacy refixed his glasses after flinching back when he looked up and saw the blood mess of Chris’s face.

“Please sit on the ground. I need to clean the blood to see if I can save what is left of your nose. You don’t appear to be bleeding heavily now so that’s good.” Waylon stayed close to Eddie as Dr.Lars scraped and cleaned and surgically patched Miles’s knuckle stumps. The skin was too damaged for stitchings so surgical glue adhesive and temporary skin was heavily applied. He wrapped a plastic bag around the afflicted hand and told Miles to go wash up before asking to see the next patient. Waylon motioned to the bench to be examined but Eddie’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. Waylon looked from Eddie to the doctor before asking.

“My new mate has a bad history with doctors and is afraid you’re gonna hurt me if he leaves. Can I whistle or something so he knows I’m okay while you look at my leg?”

“Of course. But he needs to go disinfect himself before he can see you. We can’t have your leg get infected.”

“That alright with you Sweetheart?”

“........” Eddie shifted from the doctor and Waylon’s face, concern showing plainly on his features. But he agreed.

     Eddie reluctantly left his Darlings sight to head into the empty showers. He felt on edge doing so, but hearing his Darling humming some show pop tune as the doctor checked him calmed him a bit. Eddie did, however, sigh when he saw the showers were clearly designed for much shorter women. But he couldn’t complain, a little kneeling never hurt anybody and he had quality soap from the on-site store and the water was clean and didn't have the faint metallic grim feel Murkoff showers had. After kneeling down to quickly wash his hair and face with the nicer bath products and cold water. Eddie decided to indulge himself and use warmer, dare he say hot water, to scrub his body. His rash only covered his face after all and his muscles still felt stiff from the car. Grabbing the ivory soap and washrag before getting up to have the spray head spray at his chest level. Eddie rinsed out the rag and reapplied the fine soap to start scrubbing his neck and working his way down. Eddie closed his eyes to focus on the melody his Darling was humming as he cleaned himself. His movements stalled from the tender sting of pressing the cloth over Waylon's bite mark on his shoulder. He forgot it was there from all the excitement that has happened since yesterday. Looking down, Eddie saw the thin scabs bleed a little around the indents left by Waylon's teeth.

        Eddie turned pink under the lukewarm spray. His heart fluttering as he remembered the carnal things he's done with the kind man who supposedly was his soulmate. The rush of blood didn't just travel to his face. His manhood twitched untouched as it rose to stand up against his stomach as he continued to wash his upper body in soapy suds. Eddie tried to ignore his arousal, they were in PUBLIC and the “shoulder high” walls separating the stalls didn't exactly give him privacy. Even if Christopher and now Miles took the stalls on the far end of the room and looked busy talking amongst themselves. It'd be indecent to attend to his carnal thoughts. But o God, the more Eddie cleaned his body the more aroused he became. Even his vulgar bits started to drip as he kept brushing over Waylon's claims that littered his body. The thumbprint purple marks on his hips from when Waylon forced him still. The thin stripes of Waylon's nails that scratched his back when Waylon grabbed his shoulders for supporting himself. The sore sting of the red-hot hand print Waylon left from smacking his small rear during their lovemaking. The love marks or hickies Waylon imprinted all around his tender chest. The faint soreness across his abdomen from when Waylon wrapped his arms around him to help him move with him on his lap.

       Eddie found that since he was placed in Murkoff, he bruised fairly easily. But this was the first time he was glad for it. Feeling and seeing his Darlings marks on him made him feel desired and warmer in ways the scolding shower spray never could. One indecency couldn’t hurt, could it? Eddie swerved his neck to recheck the area before turning up the water pressure. He quickly stroked his vulgar arousal with his head facing down under the warm cascade of water. He nearly swallowed his lower lip as he tried to quiet himself. He shuddered from the intense sensations but he couldn’t “get there”. Even when he used some conditioner to let him stroke himself more easily. His breathing labored as he tried to find a way to finish it. Tightening, loosening his grip, to going faster, slower, rapid spurts of speed then steady slow strokes, nothing worked. He started to turn red from exertion and the steamy water. He leaned against the wall for support as he moved away from the shower head. He thought to himself “Why can’t I cum?”

      He then shifted to lean against the wall and felt the chilled tile pile press against the still-forming bruise on his hip. Ah, that’s why. Eddie used his non-dominant hand to tease his nipples. He started slowly like when Waylon first started to play with them. The lesser sensations brought back the vivid memory of Waylon’s hands all over him. The pressure and promise of a orgasm finally started to build up. Eddie replayed the scenes of how he got each bite and bruise on his body by touching them until he spilled over his tight fist. He broke the skin on lip with his dog tooth as he bites down from feeling his insides twitch against nothing. The faintest drip of slick slide down against his inner thigh as he rode out his orgasm.

     Looking down at the water pouring over him, washing away the soap, dirt, and cum away and swirl it down the drain. It was then his eyes grew wide realizing the one thing missing he thought should always be there after the wedding night. He never bled, down there. Even when Waylon claimed him, in the most carnal of acts. It didn't even hurt one bit when Waylon claimed him. But he was a virgin! That doesn't make sense. It's supposed to hurt a little on the wedding night. A little bit of blood proving the bride is a virgin. O Darling must think I've slept around! Why didn't I bleed!?! I have to tell him I'm not a whore! Except with him, only my Darling Waylon.”

And on that manic internal thought, Waylon came in and turned on the water for the shower next to Eddie’s stall. Waylon had hobbled in with a grocery bag wrapped around his lower leg and humming his tune without Eddie realizing he was there. “Darling!” Eddie cried as his eyes started to well up with tears.

“Hi, Eddie-ee?” Waylon asked as he looked over the short wall to find Eddie’s eyes puffy and his breathing heavy. “What’s wrong? Did something tear?”

“I’m not a whore!”

“Where did that come from? I told you, you aren’t a whore for going in heat. It’s natural.”

“No, I mean, yes to that. But I swear I wasn’t a whore before I met you.”

“Okay?” Waylon softly explained as Eddie loomed over the wall dividing them.

“I swear Darling. You were my first, I don’t know why it didn’t happen!”

“Why what didn’t happen? You went into heat after I told you about your ladyparts.”

Waylon continued to rinse body with the soapy wash rag as he listened to Eddie’s plea.

“I didn’t bleed. We made love and I didn’t bleed a drop. I swear I should have. I’ve only been with you, Darling. You have to believe me!”

“We’re fine Sweetheart. I believe you, it’s okay.”

“Really?”

“Yes really. You didn’t bleed because of my um, earlier demonstration in the bathroom.”

Eddie tilted his head at Waylon’s explanation. Waylon groaned as he realized he had to explain a thing.

“Okay, so hymens are the parts most people think is like a wall inside the lady that bleeds when a woman has sex for the first time. It’s not like that all in reality. It’s more like a sliding door you’re supposed to open before having sex. But most guys kind of break down the door and that’s why there’s blood sometimes.”

“I’m not sure where this is going, but I’m following.”

“When you were uhh examining your body part, it hurt right?”

“Yes. Very uncomfortable. It didn’t feel good at all until you touched me.”

“Yeah, well. That’s because you were um “hitting your door” but not actually breaking it down. When I took over, I wanted to help your situation as painless as possible for you. So I started slow and used one finger to um, wedge in between the sliding doors and move them farther apart. Then I used two to like um fully part them to the sides so the um doorway was completely open but it didn’t physically hurt you.”

"So you know I’m not a slut?”

“Yes. I know you only’ve been with me. So can I wash my hair now?”

Eddie’s eyes flicked down Waylon’s body as if he just realized where they were during the conversation at that very second. His ears turned pink as he covered one side of his face with one hand and turned away.

“Of course Darling, as you were.”

    Eddie pretended he needed to wash his entire body with his wash rag as he side glanced Waylon in the neighboring stall. He did need to clean his thighs and legs but in any case. By the time Waylon finished, Eddie looked like a pink prune. The duo walked out with towels around their waists. They found Miles doing the same and Chris holding a medium size towel that looked like a washrag in his hands as he used it to cover his groin.

“Guys….you guys might not like this, but we might need to burn our clothes.”  
“Why?” Waylon stupidly asked as he picked up his jumpsuit. He dropped it before it got close to his face. His skin turned green as he smelled the stench of heat and death and blood.

Chris lifted his pants to his face before throwing it clear across the locker room. ”Sonova!”

    The undershirt and pants were so dirty, it almost stuck to the locker doors before it fell to the ground. Eddie knew better and left his clothing folded but wrapped in the spare towel he was given. All their clothes smell like an actual rotting corpse and various forms of rot. They didn’t even need to fully lift their clothing to their faces before the stench hit them like a punch between the eyes.

“Yeah, you guys were in there way longer than me. The staff covered their faces when I walked into the hallway redressed. I asked a couple nurses to bring any of the Lost & Found and crap the residents left behind when they switched homes or didn’t leave a will.”

The trio didn’t say anything out loud about Miles’s plans. But each of their expressions reflected their thoughts perfectly. Which more or less boiled simply down to.

Chris thinking “I’m so fucked unless they had sumo wrestlers retire here.”

Waylon internally screaming. “Please tell me Miles told them we’re all men. I don’t want to live in a 1950s dress. If they bring it, Eddie will beg me to wear it.”

Eddie thinking “O boy, new fabrics to work with!”

One hour later

“It doesn’t fit. It’s practically skin it’s so tight.”

“Eddie come on. It’s the biggest shirt we can find in the Lost & Found."

“Yeah, my guy Chris is wearing a sheet you sewed into a makeshift tank top. I sent a friend out to grab us some cheap clothes after you measured us. But you need to be less picky.”

Waylon pleaded. “This is just so the doctor can examine you, Eddie. It’s this or a robe with your butt hanging out or your birthday suit.”

“Fine. But don’t you dare laugh. Plaid is not for me and I’m like a bound Christmas ham it’s so tight.” Eddie walked out from the shower area. Waylon’s jaw nearly hit the floor from where he was sitting on the bench.

     The shirt and pants are tight but more of a model stylee tight rather than a sizing issue. They both just wrapped around Eddie’s muscles just so. Just enough to cling to the subtle and sharper curves of his muscles but not enough to limit his movements too much. But Eddie’s chest was still too wide so he had to leave the buttons of the shirt undone. His undershirt at least covered his chest. The dove grey material stretched and moved as Eddie’s chest rose and fell with his breathing. If Eddie’s skin was clear again, Waylon would assume he’d just walked out from a pin-up calendar for men or from his wet dreams.

“I think Waylon plans to beat his meat to your “Christmas ham” outfit there Eddie.” Miles jostled his elbow against Eddie. Miles himself looked like a mix and match dress up doll. Peasant shirt from a troupe play that left it behind, bell-bottom pants that should have gotten left in the 80s, cliche hipster round blue-tinted sunglasses and his signature leather jacket he cleaned in the sink.

   Eddie's eyes squinted at his badly dressed friend’s confusing comment. But the look on his Alpha’s face made him feel….pretty. Eddie crossed his arms across his chest as he realized he couldn’t fully button the middle so only a thin tank top was covering the middle of his chest.

“I guess I can live with this until I can sew or mend something better.”

Waylon quickly looked away and hoped he hadn’t drooled as he answered. “Yeah…It looks nice.”

“Can I add one thing?” Chris grunted from next to Waylon by the lockers.

“You’re a soldier and a fashionista?” Miles jeered.

“No.” Chris staggered to his feet while making sure his towel didn’t fall again. They had to use big paper-clamps to keep various towels to cover his waist. He walked over and gently took the large oversized navy hipster glasses off Miles and shuffled them onto Eddie’s face. Eddie blinked in confusion as the large man placed the glasses on his face.

“This will help if you get twitchy. I remember you knocking out a guard's teeth when you seized in the lunchrooms after they tried new meds.”

“It doesn’t really match though.” Eddie looked in a small locker mirror as he examined the hippie glasses on his face.

“You look like a hipster. Believe me, it matches.” Miles said confidently.

Eddie tilted his head as he tried to see how this suits his traditional fashion sense at all.

Waylon explained. “Hipsters are wealthy eccentric young people who love vintage aesthetics and being pretentious. Your gelled back military haircut and the plaid clothing and glasses fit the cliche hipster aesthetic.”

“If you had a beard, you’d be on the cover of “Gentrifying near you!” magazine if it was real. You’d probably never hear of it, if it did.” Miles joked as Waylon rolled his eyes.

“Miles shut up with the jokes. Eddie just wear the glasses if you feel dizzy or if we’re in public until we get you some eye drops.”

“Okay, Darling.”

Waylon and Eddie were escorted out of the locker room to an examination room nearby. Miles stayed with Christ to be examined in the locker room until the nurse they bribed to pick up Chris something to wear from the “Big & Tall” store comes back.

Eddie glared down the nurse and doctor as they checked and questioned Waylon. Luckily, he only suffered a couple minor cracked ribs and mild-dehydration which they put him on an IV to assist with. Waylon made sure to be vague with his answers when questioned how he injured his ribs or got the scratch marks on his back. Eddie, however, became much meeker and stared the ground as the nurse started his examination and questioned him. He only gave partial answers only because he didn’t know how to lie his way out of more questions.

“Mr.Smith ,you don’t appear to be injured beyond your allergy rash. For which I can recommend a cheap medication ointment to treat if it acts up again. But you as an Omega and a man of your stature are severely underweight. You should introduce more carbs and proteins into your diet.”

“I promise to try and eat more Ma’am. But please, can you please check if I’m with child first? I know it’s probably too early but I don’t know the womanly or omega secrets for knowing or not.”

“When was your last intimate heat and how long did it last?”

“It lasted about two full days about a day or so ago. Two wonderful days with my Darling Waylon. It was my first heat but he helped me through it.”

“If what you’ve told me is right, you in all likelihood had a false heat. Your lack of body fat is likely reason you haven’t presented as an Omega or had a heat sooner. And why your heat was so short. Most first heats after getting off heavy medications are false heats as well.”

Eddie tilted his head as he tried to process what the doctor was saying.

“But I did have a heat and made love with my Darling. I just want to know if we made a baby and if it’s okay!” Eddie’s voice cracked as he stressed the question. Waylon sat closer and held Eddie’s hand to help keep him calm.

“Mr.S it would be way too early to check for any sign of pregnancy even with the best conditions. But that’s not what likely happened. Heats are when the Omega body is most fertile and it releases an egg for their Alpha’s seed. A false heat is when your body mimics a normal heat in an attempt to fix its cycle and recompose all your hormones. But your body can’t get the right hormone cocktail needed to release an egg, but you experience the symptoms of heat to a lesser degree. It’s like a dry run or a practice run so your cycle can fix itself. If it was a heat that lasted the healthy length like a week, I'd examine you in a month to check for pregnancy. But two days of symptoms do not constitute a healthy Omegean heat."

“Oh.” Eddie looking heartbroken at the thought of no babies yet.

“Don’t look so dour. If this is your first heat, then you haven’t ovulated or released any eggs at all. Which means, you still likely have all your eggs. So you’re likely to have more chances at starting a family than most due to Omega men getting menopause much much later than women.”

Eddie’s face lit up like a sunrise from hearing the phrase “starting a family”. He hugged Waylon in joy at the silver lining.

“Darling! You hear that! You can still be a mother!”

The phrasing threw the doctor through a loop but Waylon meekly explained in Eddie’s tight embrace. “Eddie believes a mother is the kid’s at home parent and not just the person who gives birth.”

“O well, whatever works for you two. But Mr.E and Mr.P we were told you were exposed to dangerous chemicals and suffered various accidents in the last couple days. It is hospital policy to perform MRI and CAT scans to check for internal bleeding as well as any cell damage from exposure.

* * *

“Mr.E, we need to check for any internal bleeding. We need you to cooperate with the nurses.” Eddie clung to Waylon’s arm as the nurse tried to push him to lay down on the MRI bed.

“Would it help if I went first to prove it’s safe Sweetheart?”

“.....Please.” Eddie responded with wide eyes.

Waylon turned to the doctor “I literally fell through a rotted roof before I came here so, I’m gonna need to be scanned too.”

“Fine. I’m not going to ask. Mr.E please come with me to behind the safety wall. You can watch your husband on the monitors.”

“It’s alright Eddie, it'll be over quickly.”

The MRI and CAT process went off without a hitch after Eddie watched Waylon go through them from behind the protective glass. Waylon’s heartbeat did stutter when he felt the parallels of their first meeting while on the other side of the glass. The doctors didn’t find any internal bleeding for either of them. But however red flags were raised while scanning Eddie’s appendix. There were weird cysts all over Eddie’s appendix. It wasn’t a tumor but the sheer size of the cysts was pressing against Eddie’s other organs. It took some time and pleading but Eddie eventually agreed to the quick surgery. He didn’t want to risk anything with health for the sake of their future children. Which led to Eddie being under the knife with Waylon trying to not freak outside. Chris was in the adjacent surgical room getting the remnants of Victorian nightmare device removed. Leaving Mile stuck with an anxious Waylon asking for news every five minutes for what felt like forever. What with Waylon’s frantic pacing in front of the surgical doors, it’s a miracle he didn’t dig a moat in the floors and trip the nurses coming and going.

An hour and a half in. three nurses had been chased down by Waylon asking for updates and there was still no news about the surgery. Waylon was now standing on his toes to peer in through the small windows on the door. Miles was sitting nearby, nervously tapping his foot against the couch end as he played Candy Crush on a burner phone.

“It’s been over two hours, should we know something by now?”

“No news is good news Park. Will you sit down already? I’m getting riled up your staring them down so hard.”

“What’s taking them so long!” Waylon was practically hopping with anxious energy.

“It’s taking out an appendix, not picking up Chinese takeout. It’s gonna take a while. They probably found a bunch of weird crap while cutting him open and they gotta clean that up too.”

“Fucking Christ Miles, they’d tell me if something like that happened. Wouldn’t they? You know these people, they’d tell me if they found something else?”

“I think Gluskin could have bled out ten minutes ago and they're waiting for a horse tranquilizer gun to arrive before they tell you.”

Waylon then rushed closer and grabbed and yanked Miles off the generic lounge couch. His teeth bared and snarling as he shoved the man against the robin blue wallpaper.

“Take that back you fucking fuck.” Waylon practically snarled out the curses, glaring into Miles’s equally pissed off expression.

“No. My guy’s on the tables too asshole and I’m an Omega. Your anxiety is literally fucking with my anxiety because you literally have not unclenched since they went in. And I’m this close to Roshambooing you to make you sit the fuck down.”

Waylon literally growled back at Miles. Hearing a furious Alpha made even a defiant Omega flinch. But a little blue-haired 4’11” angel with a tennis ball walker broke the tension by tapping on Waylon’s elbow. Her thick foggy glasses weren’t strong enough to allow her to see the scene she had puttered into.

“You nice boys wouldn’t happen to know where the restrooms are?”

Waylon stares wide-eyed at the elderly woman before realizing how he looked. A snarling Alpha scaring the hell out of an Omega. He dropped Miles back on his feet, who was smirking at the situation.

Miles politely said back “Down the hall, near the ice machine’s ma’am.”

“Thank you, dearie.” The older lady shuffled away on her walker down the hall.

“I told you this was a retirement facility. The doctors here are used to working on super weak or fragile old people. I told you before they can’t kill a bull like Gluskin or my Chris. But you ignored me the first hundred times I’ve told you.”

“You’re still an ass for saying he’s dead.”

“Well, you’re a bigger ass for stress pacing near an Omega whose stuck in the same fucked up boat.”

Waylon whined impatiently but reluctantly responded. “Fine, let’s agree we’re both assholes and forget about it.”

“Fine, but by god, pace around the hallway one more time and I’m stapling you to the funky upholstery,” Waylon grumbled as he laid down on the couch to study the water stain patterns on the ceiling tiles.

* * *

          Eddie woke up to find Waylon holding his hand in one of the divided live-in patient rooms. Waylon was curled over the bed from his chair while fast asleep. Eddie smiled saw his darling’s nose twitch when his hair fell on his face. Eddie’s heart melted as he pushed the stray hair back and away from his Alpha’s face. Eddie flinched when a meek voice echoed from across the room. He wasn’t alone.

Across the room was an elderly woman in bed with a book in hand and a knowing smile on her face.

“Mr you are very lucky to have such a loyal bondmate with you.”

Eddie blushed at the matron’s comment. “....We’re not bonded or married. We met recently and under horrible circumstances. I don’t even think he considers us an actual couple.” Eddie’s voice got tighter as his mind got clearer.

“I wouldn’t worry. Because he’s avid about making sure you’re taken care of as much as any bonded Alpha I’ve seen since my Arthur bless his soul. He wouldn’t leave my side longer than a couple minutes when I was carrying our twins. And you’re not even pregnant yet. You caught him already Mister. You two just need to hammer out the details and get to know each other better.”

Eddie was left speechless at the woman’s blunt opinion of his relationship. Luckily his doctor decided to walk in just then.

“It’s good to see you’re doing well Mr.Smith. The surgery took longer then expected but we removed all the cysts along with your appendix. I will let you rest now, but I’ll need to talk with you and your mate to discuss heat repression meds for your recovery.”

“Thank you, doctor. I appreciate it.” Eddie waited until after he ate his dinner and the nurses declared “lights out” at 9 PM to disturb Waylon. He managed to guide the zombie-like sleeper to crawl onto the queen size mattress for residents without too much trouble. Waylon instinctively curled around Eddie’s back after the larger man turned away to protect his stitches. Unlike Murkoff, when the lights turned off here it didn’t fling dark shadows that choked you on top of already a dire landscape of plaster and rot. The building was well used but cared for. The shades of nightfall cast more of a soft calmness that hummed around him and Waylon. Eddie fell fast asleep soon after, listening to his heart monitor and Waylon’s snoring sounds against his shoulder blades.

 

Eddie was wheeled to the bright windowed office down the hall with Waylon. They needed to talk about all of Eddie’s previous prescriptions as well as a mild heat repression pill until his stitches came out. Eddie luckily still had his old pill bottles from over the years. He had kept sewing needles in cotton balls in them. Eddie had told them his common medications when he was given them was Quaaludes and symptoms for it. Eddie was too busy rambling about the random regiment he lived between prescriptions for his schizophrenia to see the grim expression of the doctor’s face when he heard the name “Quaaludes”.

“Mr.S The drug you’ve described has been banned for twenty-some years. Whoever prescribed them in this day n age should have their license revoked. It is a highly addictive drug with horrible side effects. I’m not obligated by law to report you but you need to tell me the last time you’ve partaken to it. We need to prepare for withdrawal symptoms.”

“July. They stopped giving me my pills in July. I remember because people were frightened by the fireworks. I didn’t particularly care for it anyway. I’d like to try something with fewer side-effects if possible.”

“That was three months ago sir. And you’re telling me you don’t want more?”

“No. I want my meds from my youth or whatever is the easiest to take nowadays.”

The doctor was floored and started at Eddie from over the top of her glasses.

“You are either strong-willed or a world-class liar. It’s a highly addictive drug but you should have gone through all the stages of withdrawal in a month. In any case, I still need to talk to you about the things long-term side effects.”

“Sweetheart, I just want to ask the doctor something. Would you mind if the doctor and I stepped out?”

“....Alright. But you if it’s something I should know, please tell me.”

”I will try when you’re better if it’s still worth mentioning.”

“Okay, Darling. I’ll wait for you I guess.”

“Now listen here Ma’am. If the drug affects fertility or vaginas or whatever, you can’t tell him.”

“Mr.Smith, your friend might be your mate but he’s my patient. He deserves to know his own body.”

“ He has barely survived a fate worse than hell. And hopefully only been medically raped. The only thing that’s been keeping him alive is the chance of having a family. Taking away that faint hope will KILL him. You can email me the info about the drugs at this email, encrypt it if you can. And I’ll do what I can to take care of him. But do not tell him anything about the fertility side effects.”

”Mr.Park this is unethical.”

”So are hot dogs. And I’m not asking you to deprive him of medications or never tell him. I’m asking you to not drop an emotional grenade on an Omega who is in a very fragile mental state. He’s been through enough. Please. I will tell him what he should know, eventually. But he can’t learn about this NOW. The only thing that’s been keeping him going was the chance of having a family. Please don’t take it away. We just pulled him out of a literal hellscape.”

“...You give me your word, you will tell him what I’ll email you about the drugs?”

“On my parent’s graves, I promise. But not until I think he’s stable enough to hear it without it killing him. ”

“Fine. Here’s my card. My emails on the back. I will share the info he needs to here to whatever email you forward my way.”  
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

The rest of the session went off without a hitch. The group was asked to stay in the work lounge on the ground floors until Miles returned from whatever he was doing. The nurses knew better to ask questions. At least the one nurse, Dolores, had come back with two large sweatsuits and underwear for Walker so he didn’t have to hang out with towels and paper clamps in the locker room anymore. An hour or two after visiting hours in the morning ended, Ava showed up with vending machine snacks and Miles. She was the one in charge of making sure they left all in one piece by the staff. They walked carefully out of the building and towards the Jeep, Waylon had a realization and tugged on Ava’s shoulder.

“Is it safe for Eddie to have weight on against his surgery cuts? I don’t want to risk them opening up.” Waylon started to panic out loud as he remembered the limited room in the jeep.

“Miles, what are you planning to do with these men?” Miles’s cousin Ava poked him in the side with her nails as she demanded answers.

“OW!Nothing! My car’s just small! I didn’t plan to pick anyone up! Stop with the catwoman shanks!” Miles scurried away to hid in his car away from his cousin’s harsh nails poking between his ribs.

“Eddie, just sit on Waylon’s lap this time.” Chris mildly stated from the backseat. Eddie barked with laughter at the comment.

“Ha…..wait that wasn’t a joke was it?” “No. But it was funny apparently.” Waylon said with a furrowed brow.

“I’d crush you.”

”I think I’ve already proved how I am far from a delicate flower, Sweetheart.” Eddie was about to argue against the plan but then Waylon used his deep tone and called him sweetheart. His figurative spine turned to mush and Eddie found himself trying to get comfortable sitting sideways on Waylon’s not so tiny lap. It was a bit of a exercise to get his legs settled but they got it. Edde had to tilt his neck to not hit his head on the ceiling and resorted to hooking his arm around the chair headrest for some breathing room for Waylon. But it worked. Eddie’s face started to burn faint pink as he felt something smaller under him get bigger. Much bigger.

“Darling! No.”

“Sorry. It will go down...eventually.”

“Just no funny business Darling. We’re in polite company.”

Chris in the back seat had then started to hack heavily into Eddie’s handkerchief in the backseat. And Miles managed to return after evading his cousin and claimed his place in the driver's seat.

“So guys, while you chilled I went ahead and drained Blaire’s Debit cards in his wallet. So we’ve “got money money! Money!” The reporter sang the last part to the tune of the famous ABBA song. He then opened up his satchel to reveal the huge stacks of bills in money clips.

“...Well, not a particularly polite company.”

The group discussed the immediate plan of dealing with loved ones and the dangers of going to the police before getting all their ducks in order. Miles didn’t just go to the Asylum because of Waylon’s email. He went to investigate the claims to expand his investigation of political corruption in connection to government contracts given to Murkoff. Murkoff had bought the former government-owned facility with hundreds of confidential files from Project PaperClip” inside still. And they bought it for pennies too. Once there it only solidified Miles’s findings because they clearly were not only committing savage inhuman rights violations on the patients. They clearly skated on every sort of regulation for YEARs. They clearly had not been examined or had government worker come down to check anything from their medical equipment, to basic health code checks, to sanitation upkeep, safety inspections, to the damn building inspections to make sure the ground didn’t collapse. It was blatantly obvious Murkoff had connections and means of bribing their way in multiple government agencies, from the social workers to the Government contract committee. Who knows if they had the state law enforcement in their pockets too. No. They needed to warn their families if they had any and they needed to pool their information and use Waylon’s computer skills to protect their findings.

Waylon requested two things, one to warn his only family his grandparents and to get some equipment at home. Miles’s handed off his burner to Waylon as they drove down the highway towards the closest major train terminal. Miles, Eddie’s and Chris’s eyebrows nearly reached their figurative hairlines when Waylon dialed the phone and started to speak rapid-fire Korean. Eddie's eyes shifted from Miles to Waylon. His expression pleading to know if anyone else was hearing the weird language too

_**“** Grandfather, something happened at my work with Murkoff. Something horrible. But I’m going to do the right thing about it. But a lot of people are going to come after me. Please take care of yourselves and don’t try to contact me. Don’t trust anyone. I’m sorry but I won’t be able to call you for a long time.”_

_Waylon’s elderly grandmother barked over the phone speaker. Both were hard of hearing so they answered all their phone calls with the phone speaker at high volume. “Waylon Ji-Yeong Park. You better tell us exactly what is going on. You aren’t too big to be put over my knee.”_

_“I’m sorry, but the less you know the safer you two are.”_

_“Ji-Yeong. Are sure what you’re doing is right or even worth doing?”_

_“Grandfather, If I don’t do anything I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing what I know and doing nothing. You guys raised me better than to stand by and do nothing when horrible things are happening to innocent people. These people tormented my soulmate in front of me. I couldn’t do nothing and just leave.” There was a dead quiet for a long pause. Waylon’s heart stopped as_ _though someone broke into their house._

_“Grandfather? Grandmother?_

_“Fine. We’ll stay on the base til it blows over. Do what you need to do.” Waylon released the breath he was holding as he heard their voices again. Waylon swears he could hear his grandmother glare at his grandfather for not pushing for information. His grandfather was always the easier going one, despite being a jaded soldier of the Tiger Brigade. Probably to balance out his Omegean wife who tended to fuss over details._

_“At least tell us you have means to protect yourself. I know you’re a hippie pacifist like your father but you need to protect yourself. Buy a taser, make a flamethrower with a lighter and hairspray, something to defend yourself_ Sonja _”_

 _“Really? You came up with a flamethrower before you thought of a gun?” His grandfather asked chuckling farther away from the phone. Waylon cracked_ a _smile because he couldn’t help but imagine his small Omega grandmother using a flamethrower._

_His grandmother got farther away to talk with her Alpha husband. But it didn’t make much difference since they didn’t walk that far from the phone and both talk loudly even while trying to whisper because of their hearing aids.“You know our grandson can’t shoot. He nearly shot both of his eyes out when you bought him that NILF gun as a boy.”_

_“Guys, guys! I’m okay. I’m not alone. I’m with a couple people who had similar meetings with their soulmates. We’ve survived something already worse than a battlefield. We’re going to be fine.”_

_“Just be careful.”_

_His grandmother put her foot down and yelled at Waylon. “If not, I swear I will go to the underworld alive just to drag you back home so I can yell at you more.”_

_“_ Yes _Grandmother.”_

_“Try not to get your gal pregnant before we get to meet her.” His grandfather dryly stated._

_“Grandfather!”_

_“What? I’m old. And I don’t know how long this “right thing” is gonna be. I want to see great grandkids before I’m dead but not before I get to meet their mother.”_

_“Send us letters when you can. Let us know you’re okay and what’s she’s like.”_

_“My Omega soulmate is a man grandmother. A very strong tall Omega man.”_

_“Fine. Tell us what he’s like. Just no babies_ till _we see him in person.”_

_“Yes, Grandmother. I love you guys. Stay safe.”_

_”We love you too. Be careful Ji-Yeong._ Goodbye _for now.”_ Waylon hung up the phone smiling to himself. His hair stood on end before he looked up to find the entire car staring directly or indirectly at him.

“What?”

”What the fuck Parker you didn't tell us you were adopted.” Miles snarked.

”I'm not, and my name is PARK which is a very common Korean last name .”

”You don't even look Asian. You're like an inverted twinkie.”

Chris patted Miles’s shoulder trying to keep him calm. “Miles calm down”

“ My mother's Korean and my Dad's an Irish mix Alpha. Being part Irish doesn't make me less Asian or change my childhood.”

”.....so that's why your skin is so pretty Darling.”

“You still could have told us.”

”I'm not exactly hiding it, my name is Park and I wasn’t exactly hiding my face from you guys. And hey, you aren't exactly the visual embodiment of a cliche Latino you pale jackass.”

”I’m not that damn pale. I’ve lost blood from being shot. Chris back me up here. “

”You are pale tho. But I couldn't tell Parks eye shape because he's been face planted between Eddie's tits for most of the driving.” Chris explained.

“Ha! And a word of warning, If you call any other Asian American twinky, I promise you'll end up losing teeth.” Waylon firmly explained to the driver.

”Such fire Darling!”

Fine. I’m sorry. But that was a curveball and I get bitchy when I’m hungry. Everyone look for a rest stop sign. We’re already halfway there. We’re making a food stop.”

“Oh! I see the McDonalds arches. I haven’t been there since I was a boy.” Now it was Eddie’s turn to be stared at from the rest of the vehicle.

“You’ve hadn’t had McDonald's since you were a kid?”

“They weren’t that common and my mother thought it’d be a nice treat after me and my little sister helped her finish unpacking her tailor shop.”

“We’re stopping to get Mickey D’s. I see the exit hold on.” Miles might have cut off a couple cars to get off at the immediate exit.

”I’ll walk inside and order. All of us together would stand out and the drive-through has a long line.” Waylon said as his thumb rubbed Eddie’s thigh. As Miles parked the jeep, he reached down and pulled out a smaller wad of bills. He threw it at Waylon as he got out of the car.

“Just get a bunch of everything. I’m freaking starving”

Chris tapped Miles’s headrest. “Unlock the trunk. I gotta pee. I can still feel my legs so I can get out by myself.”

After both their alphas scurried their way into the crowded building, the car was filled with awkward silence. And Miles’s burner phone was dead, damn it.

Miles glances over at Eddie in shotgun. Eddie was tracing the corners of his blanket that had stitched names along the edges.

“Whose Eliza Gren?”

“She was a friend when they still housed women at the Asylum.”

“ A nurse? Your therapist? Can’t imagine any hack who worked for Murkoff consciously, that’d be worth remembering.”

“She was a patient. She was depressive bipolar and signed herself in when her religious family kicked her out after “failing to exorcise her demons. She admitted to sleeping with women during her exorcism and it was the final straw for her parents.”

“Do you know where they moved her too?” Miles asked. He could use some references to how they removed the female population from the building due to the Walrider side effects. Even the most misogynistic of institutions can’t trivialize away an exodus of staff and patients of that magnitude for the sake of practicality.

“A Murkoff guard killed her. And worse he made it look like a suicide by hanging her by a belt in the woman's showers.”

“She was sick Eddie. Murkoff is sleazy enough to do that, but she could have killed herself to escape.”

Eddie started to shake. The story of what happened to his friend practically clawed its way out of his throat. A desperate tired thing, soaked in rage and melancholy.

“She was manic depressive. But she was fully aware of her illness and loved life too much to end her life. No matter how bad it got. And it got bad for her. She had an episode where she sat in the showers overnight because she wanted to feel the rain. It ran up a huge water bill and Murkoff wouldn’t give her her pills unless she paid extra. She couldn’t afford extra. Which lead to more manic episodes. Some guard probably lost his temper and killed her.”

Miles could feel the outrage burn from Eddie fade into something solemn, something that’s burned out too many times before. Eddie’s shoulders relaxed as he stared at his friends' name on the blanket. His voice got quiet as he continued.

“She was my friend Miles. She had problems but she wanted to get better. She wanted everyone to get better. She didn’t know about the walrider or the experiments down below. But she tried to help everyone. She prayed I’d find my happy ending when she learned about my family.”

“I know she couldn’t have hanged herself. We’re not allowed to own belts in the asylum. And all patients are searched for weapons or illegal things before allowed into the showers. She didn’t even get to be buried right because her’s family was religious and suicide is sacrilege!”

“We’ll make them pay Gluskin. You can petition to have her family rebury her after we deal with Murkoff. Hell, we can make them literally pay for a nice funeral.”

“That’d be good. She deserves some peace and to be buried right in consecrated ground.”

Miles’s looked past Eddie’s face, out the open window next to him and smiled. Waylon and Chris were walking their way.

“I got so many nuggets!” Waylon cried happily as he walked toward the car with what looked like shopping bags of food. Chris was following close behind him with a couple whoppers in hand.

“That’s enough food for an army!”

“Yasssss I love my nugs!”

“You said get a couple of everything, I got a couple of everything! You didn’t hand me ones Upshur. You handed me a roll of fifties.”

”Shit.”

“I still have most of it and I still got all this.”

“Not complaining.”

“How are we going to get out of the car after this?”

“Will power and the lube I keep under the seats.” Even Chris was judging Miles. Even as he chewed his double patty burger with a open mouth. Miles shrugged and defended his statement.

“What? I kept getting my hands stuck in pringles tubes?”

Eddie quirked his one full eyebrow as he commented. “...Why didn’t you just cut the sides to let out the pressure?”

“.....Now you tell me. I’m still keeping the edible lube tho.” Miles winked at Chris  through the drivers mirror as he started to dunk his mcnuggets in the sauce. He then turned to Waylon and Eddie as they started their meals.

“Now we need to get yous two to the damn train station.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to CasCorp for being a patient editor. This is basically me making up for the lack of Walkshur content so far in the series. Please comment if you can.

“Wake up, we’re at our safe house.” Miles excitedly said as he opened the back trunk door for Chris to get out.

Chris grumbled as he wiped the sand out of his eyes and tried to figure out where the hell this “safe place” was.

The area was more muck and dust then forest but it was well hidden by the trees. Still, the rickety longhouse shack needed a paint job, about twenty years overdue.  Wrap around porch in the back. Looked like the termites and stubbornness were the only thing keeping it together. The broken bench swing tossed by wind against porch handrails didn’t exactly scream out a warm welcome for the two. But here they were.

“Where are we?” Mumbled Chris as he opened his tired eyes to the faint sunrise in the distance.

“Nowheresville Utah….No seriously, we’re in Utah. Near a park and some place called Vernal.”

“They don’t have motels in Utah?”

“We can’t blend in and I don’t know how long the other guys are gonna be.”

“So this is ours for now?” Chris asked as he expected the roof to cave in before even walking inside.

“It has cheap short rent and the best place to hide since I bought it with my undercover name.”

“And that is?”

”Maurie Putrefy Cook.”

Chris choked on air after hearing the silliest fake name he’s ever heard.

“What the hell Miles? How’d you come up with that shit?”

“It’s an anagram of “Fuck you I am a reporter.” Chris congested laugh grew louder at Miles’s comeback. He had to lean against the faded blue wall to keep from falling over in laughter.

“You okay?”

“I’m good.” Chris wiped away from laughter tears as he stood back up.  
“I just haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”

“Well, at least you still got your sense of humor. Check out the place while I go get my computer from the car.”

      Chris walked the first floor quick enough. Had a den, kitchen, medium full bath, living slash tv room, foyer hallway, another half bathroom, and what looked to be the master bedroom and a closet size guest room. He was almost too wide to walk up the mouse narrow staircase to reach the other rooms and bathrooms. But the main bedroom was on the first floor anyway. The old wooden floors screamed under his weight but held together, and the 60s wallpaper patterns were so faded it looked like acne scars on blue skin then a design pattern. It had a couple big windows covered in protective grates. But the place was livable and had clean running water and electricity. Chris didn’t have high hopes of fitting in the tub but he’d manage. Miles kicking open the back screen door drew Chris back towards the kitchen.

Miles was huffing air as he staggered inside holding a giant beige tech relic into the kitchen. He managed to unload the beige mountain on the steady kitchen counter.

“Whew. Made it. I can type my notes now.”

“Upshur?”

“What?”

     Chris might not remember a lot about his time at Murkoff. But he had a firm grasp of what his life was before it. And even the bulkiest computers he’s worked with weren’t this damn old and heavy looking. The thing Miles dragged in looked like he stole it out of a history textbook.

“You went time traveling and all you got was this?”

“Haha. Bessie is old and big, but she’s sturdy and unhackable. Not even Murkoff can hack  Pentagon level safe antiques like this. They’re like vaults for secrets.”

“It’s twice your age and probably weighs almost as much.”

“I’m not _that small_ you giant. I am well above omega average in height and weight. Hell, I’m average for a young alpha. And besides. I erase her memory after I transfer on floppy disks and shift that data onto small hand drives to hide in my cigarette burner in my car. So if a Murkoff agent comes at me, I got a helluva heavy object to chuck at them.”

“And throwing stars of floppy disks.”

“Yeah, yeah. Help me move Bessie to a room I can sit down and type in.”

Chris picked up the bulky monitor with ease in one arm. Leading Miles and the computer to the house den.

“Just on the table I  guess.”

“You sure you can keep all the stuff on this thing?”

“Yup. I know Bessie, she can handle it. But as a precaution. I’m gonna mail copies of floppies to myself at a dozen p.o boxes I have. Murkoff agents are going to have so much **_fun_ ** trying to find all my aliases . Those corporate assholes are gonna take years to track them all.”

“You are the worst kind of person to get into a pissing contest with, aren’t you.”

“You have no idea  Chrissy. I paid the owner extra to have groceries delivered. They should be on the front porch by now. Can you put it away? You can make something if you’re still hungry and there’s a tv in the kitchen too if you wanna chill.”

* * *

 

**Hours later**

Miles stretched his arms over his head after he typed up the general outline of his research notes on Murkoff. Took forever to organize all the pilfered papers and balled up notepad memos into a coherent order of usefulness.  
The dark green lettering on the monitor looked bright? Shit.

“When did it get so dark out?” Miles said to no one in particular.  He’s been working all day long. And on that note, Miles saved his work, shut down the dinosaur Bessie. Then leisurely stretched as he walked through the unlit rooms towards the bright kitchen.

“Hey, Chrissy. You want me to make some ramen or should I order pizza- CHRISTOPHER.”

Half the food Miles's had ordered over the phone had been cooked and eaten. Wrappers of food stuffs littered the ground and dirty dishes flooded the sink.

“Walker. Did you take all your pills?”

”......” Chris looked at the floor as he avoided making eye contact.

”Chris!”

“The Meri (Meridia) makes me too sleepy. I feel like a zombie. I’ve done nothing but sleep for three days.”

“I know it sucks, but if you ever want to see your dick, you gotta take all your pills.”

“But it’s been days. Murkoff has to know what happened to their men at the asylum. We need to be on our toes. I can’t be captain narcolepsy now.”

“Murkoff is too busy dealing with like, five fire departments and forest people to look into us. I called every fire department in a mile of the mountain on a burner phone when we drove off.  Miles mimicked a woman’s high pitched voice either eerie realism as he made _the “phone”_ gesture with his hand.

_“Please, I see smoke coming from the mountain! There’s medical labs in the asylum.  The place could blow up and kill people before everyone could evacuate! It’s a only just reopened and the safety systems could be broken! Please hurry! The fire could spread over the entire mountain if it reaches the trees around them!”_

“That’s... smart.” Chris’s forehead scrunched up as huffed through the remnants of his nose.

“What’s with the face?”

“Nothing….” Chris scratched the back of his head. He tried to avoid Miles’s eye contact by focusing on the mess at their feet.

“Nothing my fine pale Latino ass.” Miles wrapped his arms around Chris’s middle as he looked up at his large companion.

“You’ve…. you’ve take care of fucking everything.  And I’m just here twiddling my thumbs. Fuck. I’m still such a shit Alpha! I lost you and it cost you your fucking fingers!”

Miles only leaned away far enough to poke Chris in the chest as he forced the man to look AT him and not around him. “Okay, No. None of that. Hold up the pity party parade RIGHT NOW.”

Chris turned his head to look at Miles’s clearly pissed off expression. He sounded even more pissed off then when he came in and found the massacre of snack wrappers.

“One, you didn’t lose shit. We got separated that’s not losing me or some shit. Murkoff’s buildings were shittier than their medical treatment. You fell through three levels of building and couldn’t climb up.  And two, it’s Trager’s fault for my missing digits. So don’t go trying to share the blame with that ass wipe. That dissection fetishist had earned every smudge and privilege of a grade A+ scumbag on his first class ticket to hell. And three, you literally saved me from a armed SWAT team. The walrider might have saved me from a two bullets and a couple broken bones, but you kept me alive long enough for it to get to me. We’re alive cause we BOTH worked together. So none of that “ _I’ve Failed”_ shit you’re peddling.”  

Chris grunted and hugged Miles back finally. Even when mad, bossy, and righteously lecturing him, the Omegean man had a calming effect on him. Miles did have a highly effective combo of aggressive positivity and the calming dark scent swirling around him.

“Fine.” Chris relented as he got up from the sturdy metal chair.

“Fine, as in you’ll take your meds and help me clean this up?”

“Yes. I’ll clean up my mess and take my pills.”

“Good. If there’s nothing left to salvage, we can call take out.”

“Miles....”

“After you take your pills and then clean all this up. Then we get take out. If they haven’t kicked in by then, we can watch crap tv together.”

“That sounds nice.”

-

The cleaning process went quickly enough and judging by Chris’s droopy eyelids his meds were starting to work. Miles just got take out of a pizza place nearby.  Miles even splurged for a bunch of appetizers they can reheat later. Mostly because he’s too lazy to go buy groceries in person and hoping Waylon and co won’t be too long before they regroup. Made a delivery guy come with three bags of food and pizza to the swamp boondocks but paid the bill with four fifties and let the kid keep the change. The teenager looked at Miles like he was off his rocker for it, but was grateful for the money consolation in any case.

Two hours later, both were sleepy and full. Lounging in the low lit den, flickering between vintage MASH reruns, half run classic movies, and trashy reality show ads. It was dark, warm and comforting.

“You want a blanket or something?” Chris asked as Miles like, melted on the back of the couch seat like a lackadaisy cat in a sunbeam.

“I can at least be useful in getting you a blanket and pillow.”

“Want to be useful? Help me practice. ”

“Practice what?”

“Fucking something bigger than my remaining fingers.” Miles plainly stated as if he was describing using a car to get groceries and not a sex act. Chris faltered a little backwards at the blunt phrasing.

“Seriously your hard dick is probably going to be thicker than my wrists. I need some serious practice to work up to your wine bottle prick.”

“Miles, there’s something you should know.”

“Aw geez, you’re not a virgin?” Miles said dramatically. Feigning to clutching his pearls in shock to drive the sarcasm home.

“I’m being serious.”

“Shit you are a virgin. I promise to be gentle.” Miles said with a toothy grin.

“MILES.”

“Okay, I’m listening.” Miles crawled closer to Chris’s end of the couch. Still laying across the back like a cat.

“Miles. They gave me fattening foods to fuck up my hormones just to test out some drugs. I was heavy to begin with, but still. Since they started with the food regiment, I hadn’t had a rut in years. I can barely remember what it was like to knot my own hand. I can barely get hard now.”

Miles listened carefully, even grabbed the remote to turn off the tv volume so Chris didn’t have to over talk.

“Not to mention I have the sex appeal of a horror game monster with my messed up face. You’d probably be happier finding another Alpha or even a Beta than with me.”

Miles leaned over as Chris rambled on his self loathing spiral. Careful to not disturb his adhesive glue on his right hand as he reached over. Using his birdie finger and his thumb , he flicked Chris sharply behind the ear. Chris cringed his neck at a angle to hide his ear against his shoulder at the weird sensation.

“What did I say about pity parties? None of that. You’re my soulmate. If your face didn’t spook me off when it was covered in blood after pelting me through a wall, it ain’t scaring me off now. And you got meds to help you get better. Even if it’s the worst case scenario and you can’t rut again. There are sex toys that both of us can have fun with when I go into heat. Plus, dry orgasms are still orgasms, just less anxiety and pregnancy scares.

“How are you so….. aggressively optimistic?”

“A love of life and desire to spite the universe by being enjoying myself so much it pisses the universe off.” Miles smiled his mischievous smile as he scooched across the back of the couch to get closer to Chris.

“That’s one way to go about things.” Chris chuckled.

“Yup. Now back to my first question. Do you want to mess around or not?”

Chris’s face warmed up as he smirked back at Miles. The gauze patches might cover up most of his expressions but his eyes reflected the soft joy towards Miles.“I don’t know. Does this count as a third date? Shouldn’t you give me a good night kiss by now before you get into my pants?”

“So you do know how to make a joke. And well, I guess I’ve been distracted and prudish on our other “dates”. But I promise I’ll be better.” Miles leaned over closer for a kiss.

“You better.” Chris yanked Miles off the back of the couch and pulled him on top of himself so they could kiss without hurting their necks.

The first kiss was what first kisses should be. It was chaste and awkward, but made both people so warm and giggly with excitement to try it again.

And they did, again, and again, and again. Until the soft kisses slowly became less chaste and more desperate. The long hours passed quickly into the night as the couple took their time to enjoy every sound, every texture, every response of the other. The duo in their slow tenderness , gradually became more starved for the other’s touch as time past.

Walker’s arms wrapped tightly around Miles’s back. The sudden pressure making the omega groan from the sensation. Chris smirked like a ass as he felt Miles moan against his healing lips. Only then did Miles pull back from the barrage of kissing. Chris would swear on his life, the dark room got brighter when Miles caught his breath and smiled a dopey grin. He hooked his arms behind Chris’s head and asked.

“Getting handsy there Chrissy. Want to take this to the bedroom?”

Chris didn’t so much as reply as shot up off the couch while still holding Miles like a bag of grapes. Miles barely shifted as he held onto Chris’s neck and back. Laughing as Christopher beelined for the master bedroom through the now dark house.

“Now that’s more like it!”

Chris plopped Miles down onto the aging mattress, too distracted by Miles’s giggling and kissing his neck to give a damn about the furniture. Chris kneeled next to the bed, leaning over to pin Miles against it as they kissed and scented each other, memorizing the other by touch. Chris’s crotch was pressed more to the sides of the mattress than Miles due to the height differentiation resulting in Miles’s legs wrapping around his middle and not his hips. They groped each other like teenagers in the backseat of a car.

               Miles smelt dark and sweet. Chris couldn’t pin exactly how to describe it. The closest thing he could compare it to was a childhood memory of the Hershey Land Park Factory tour. His parents weren’t the wealthiest people, so instead of well known parks, they went to Hershey land park.  It was a gimmickey Disney-esque ride through the history and making process of Hershey’s chocolate. It was dull and mostly educational, but all the machines towards the end were actually using real cocoa ingredients to make and package the chocolate. Dozens of freshly made Hershey classic chocolate bars made every minute and the scent carried through most of the building. So the entire ride experience would smell _AMAZING._ It was one of the few rides his small family all could go on, with his mom’s heart problems. Miles’s scent was just as enveloping and smile inducing as the memory, but was darker and sweeter somehow.

       The room was dark as the pit, leaving  Miles fumbling in the dark trying to unbutton Chris’s shirt and his own jeans. He turned his head to catch his breath again after failing to reach Chris’s buttons a third time. Chris didn’t lose a beat and just kept nuzzling and kissing Miles’s long sensitive neck. Miles flailed trying to turn on his side and out from under Chris kneeling on top of him.

“For fucks sake!  I can’t see the fucking buttons.  Wait a minute, where’s the lights?”

“We’re fine like this.” Chris turned them on their side to let Miles breath easier, but tried to distract Miles by grazing his teeth against his neck. The sensation sent shivers down Miles’s spine. “Chrisss ffffuuuccckkkk.”

Miles clung to  Chris’s head and neck as Chris nipped and softly bit along Miles’s collar bone. Miles melted like puddy under the simple teasing until Chris slid his hand under Miles’s tank top. He remembered what he wanted before and motioned for Chris to stop.

“Wait, fuck. Yeah, lights we need lights. We can’t see shit like this.”

“We’re fine, I can see what we need to move.”

“So I’m supposed to just fumble blind while you do stuff to me? That sounds like a weird sex satire cartoon about marriage.”

“Miles please.”

“I’m supposed to just lay here and take it without seeing shit? Hell no.”

“Miles….I just….let me keep my shirt on  then. Please.” Chris asked softly, as he leaned up using his arm as support.

“Fine. I know there are limits for body image esteem. God knows I had to deal with a lot of it during high school when I grew man boobs. You can keep your pants or shirts on, but we’re putting on the lights.”

“Okay. Just, don’t freak out when I pull my pants down.” Chris reluctantly got up to flip on the lights since he was the only one who could see shit.

“I won’t if you don’t gimme shit for my weird dark nipples. ” Miles stated as he already went through the motions of sliding off his sweatpants and underwear. The garments slunk off Miles’s legs before Chris even turned around after turning off the lights. Miles was sitting in only his thin pale undershirt. Most of his stomach wounds have crusted over into nasty scabs and purple bruises. But the skin had already started to grow over them. But Miles decided to keep the gray shirt on , to avoid another angst session by reminding Chris of his injuries.

“Eager aren’t we?”

“Hey, tat for tat. I figured it’d be less awkward for you if I was already mostly naked too.”

Miles almost gasped as he looked down and saw the faint outline under Chris’s old man beige pants with the lights on. The shaft outline looked like it was thick as Miles’s wrist. Miles squirmed as he tried to keep himself calm and tried to remain neutral faced. If only to not spook the already nervous Alpha. Chris looked at the ground instead of Miles as he slowly undid his belt and slid down his beige capri pants.

The girthy organ bobbed up as it was freed from the tight pants. Before swinging lower again due to being pulled down by its own weight. Miles had to cover his mouth with his hand as it started to wiggle as Chris had to maneuver the jockstrap off. Chris cursed as he tried to shuffle out of the underwear and pants that got caught around his ankles because of the belt. Looking up to find Miles grinning ear to ear and unafraid. Which wasn’t usually the first reaction people had to seeing his dick , even when only a little hard. Most when they actually see it up close either suddenly went to the bathroom to freshen up and then get a “Emergency text from their fill in the family or friend here” and had to leave immediately. Or laughed and said “Yeah, no. That isn’t going to fit anywhere.”

“So um, yeah. I can’t get that much harder than this anymore.”

“I hope not. I need to train my cunt like a Olympian to get ready to fuck that. Which is bound to be half the fun anyway. You’re lucky I’m a huge size queen or I would probably be fucking scared.”  Miles chirped as Chris walked back towards the bed.

Chris tried to cover up his nervousness by grunting over his shallow gasp as he took a seat next to Miles. Then laid across the bed, feeling even more self conscious about the situation as the old iron frame of the bed base groaned under his weight.

“So eh, we should take it slow.”

Miles crawled on top of Chris’s middle.

“We’ve kinda have already , but I’m all for making out some more if you are~”

Chris smiled as Miles leaned down to kiss him again. They fervidly kissed until Miles started to shift his hips against Chris’s stomach. Chris’s breath stuttered as he felt how hard Miles had become against him. The boost to his ego made him feel particularly brave. So seizing the moment after nibbling Miles’s friction pink lips. Chris moved them both back so he could sit up on the edge of the bed. Forcing Miles to straddle one of his husky thighs.

Miles flailed trying to balance on the limb between his legs. He couldn’t reach Chris’s shoulder’s anymore and almost lost balance from the sudden movement. All the blood in his two organs, had left him light headed. Chris hooked one broad hand behind Miles’s back to keep him from falling backwards.

“Sorry, thought you’d benefit from a change of position. Because well, just because mine doesn't work, doesn't mean we can't play with yours.”  Miles’s groin was perched on the end of Chris’s shin. He could feel the edge of Chris’s knee caps press against his small opening below his balls.

     Miles was still lightheaded from the movement, giggled as he tried to listen. He smiled and nodded but internally was reeling from how turned on he was being flung around as easily as if he was a rag doll.  He was a fairly strong and able bodied man, but compared to Chris’s iron strong hand pushing him back and power, he was helpless. His insides fluttered and his manhood literally throbbed against his own stomach as he processed that basic truth.  It probably wasn’t healthy to be as turned on by that as he was given what he’s survived.

In any case, Miles nervously giggled as he pushed himself to sit on by grabbing Chris’s shirt front and side.

“Hehehehehehe, yeah, okay. Go for it.” Miles’s babbled as he tried to figure out how to string words together in a coherent way again.

    Chris spat on his free hand before using it to “play” with Miles’s pulsing shaft. The air was knocked out of Miles as he felt Chris’s rough hands slide around his prick. Chris’s broad palm alone almost engulfed Miles’s entire manhood, in both girth and length. Miles’s fists tightened against Christopher’s shirt as he tried to remember how to breath while Chris focused on not applying too much pressure with his non-dominant hand. The stimulating act was short lived however, due to Chris’s spit quickly drying.

    As stimulating as Chris’s rough textured palms was, even Miles couldn’t enjoy being stroked without something to ease the friction. The slow descent into discomfort allowed some blood to rush back into Miles’s brain instead of his groin or face. He tried to tap Chris’s chest to get him to listen.

“Wait, fuck. Wait, I got lube. Be right back.” Miles almost stumbled as he shifted to get off Chris’s knee. Chris kept his arm out to help him steady himself again. As much as he liked having Miles’s on his knee, they needed lube and he had no idea where Miles’s had put it. Miles staggered around the bed, towards the armchair in the corner with his satchel slung across it. He swung it open and fumbled with a zipper for a moment. He yanked out a tiny metallic square. He unwound a rubber band tie around the rectangle bundle before dramatically flicked his wrist holding it, and the sleeve of medium lubricant packets unfurled itself. The sleeve reached from Miles’s shoulders to just below his hips.

Chris raised what remained of one eyebrow at the sheer volume of lubricant Miles managed to keep in his bag.

“What? It’s cheaper to buy in bulk sometimes?”

“I said nothing. Just grab a couple and get back to where I left you.”

“Yes Sir~” Miles said as he ripped out five packets and took a seat back on Chris’s thigh. Slightly closer towards the larger man so he didn’t need to balance his weight against Chris’s chest as much.

“Now where were we?”

“Well you were whimpering into my tits while trying not to cum.”

Miles pouted at Chris’s comeback about well, him almost cumming before.

“I was not.”

“Hmmm , yup. You always make those sounds and grind your hips up and down.” Chris remarked as he looked down at Miles’s cock twitching. Miles ripped up the packet corner with his teeth. A odd dark blue gel leaked out the corner. He ripped it in half to cover the top part of his shaft and spreading it over the rest.

“I’m almost BLUbed up show me what your hands can do”

Chris lifted his knee a fraction to make Miles’s squeak as he applied the second packet of lube. “Miles,that’s fucking awful.”

“That’s what she said.”

Chris laughed into his fist as he tried not to buck Miles off his leg from moving too much.  
“What are you , twelve?’  
‘Twenty five and a half, I’ll be twenty six in November.”

“God, I’m a legal cradle robber then. Oh well, there’s worse things I guess.” Chris remarked as his palm glided around Miles’s cock. Miles for once in his life was too overwhelmed to give a sarcastic comeback, not even a half assed one. He was too utterly distracted by feeling Chris’s warm hand covering his lube cooled shaft.  The lube allowed Chris to go at a much faster pace. His wide hands were firm but gentle as he stroked the reporter’s manhood. Miles nearly bit his tongue as he tried to not whine as his orgasm quickly built up in his groin. His hips jutted to and fro from Chris’s palm trying to get more friction. But Chris wasn’t having Miles disrupt the rhythm. So he used his non dominant hand to latch on Miles’s hip. Basically forcing Miles’s hips at standstill. Miles kept trying to move despite Chris holding him still, but he couldn’t move a inch with Chris’s hand on him. Miles’s hips would break before that could happen. Miles didn’t even have time to moan Chris’s name when the pleasure rising spiked and released.

    Miles ejaculation shot out in intense bursts. Covering the end of Chris’s palm and going so far as to land on top of Chris’s plaid shirt. Chris just kept stroking Miles through the orgasm as the man whined his name. Miles’s body leaking and trembling like a doe as he leaned against Chris’s front. It took awhile for Miles’ to ease down from the sudden climax. Miles after recollecting himself moved to sit up straight again. Moving a little farther on Chris’s lap, and looking down, he smiled that damnable smile of his.

“O fuck, that’s a lot.” Chris leaned up to see what Miles’s was talking about. His own shin was soaked with Miles’s slick covering both their thighs. And the front of his shirt was covered in spots of Miles’s cum . Almost up to Chris’s high belly button. Chris’s eyes went wide as he felt the faint chill in the air against the cum soaked clothing and skin.

“Oops? You might want to take these off before the cum gets sticky. My orgasms are like Sea World, the first three rows always get soaked.”

“You planned that you little shit.”

“Prove it.”

    Chris unbutton his stained plaid shirt and parted it to his sides. Miles’s looked almost giddy as he pressed his hands over Chris’s skin and could feel the muscles and fat underneath. He didn’t realize Chris had started to pull up his own tank top, bunching it up. Until he pulled it to his neck. Miles lifted his arms expecting to be freed from the thin shirt completely. But Chris merely moved the bunched up front of his shirt to his mouth.

“Open.” It was a statement, not a request. A thrilling spark rushed up Miles’s spin as he opened his mouth and was gagged with his tank top.  

“Don't need to. But because if it, I I'm just gonna go ahead and fuck you and your doll tits.”

      Miles’s whimpered as he felt Chris push him to lean completely back, supporting him as he arched his spine and lifted his hips to a unnatural angle. Miles squirmed as Chris traced his small opening with his index finger. Miles’s groin felt freezing from the fluid that had dripped out since they started. His hole has been relaxing and dilating for what has felt like weeks of sexual teasing. He was as ready and needy for Chris’s barrel fingers as he’d ever be.  He looked to Chris’s face for any aggression but only found a smug confident smirk smiling back at him. He was playing with him.

      Miles’s huffed as he tried to jut his hips back and forth to ease Chris’s fingers inside him somehow. Somehow Chris’s smile just grew wider as he leaned Miles’s back further and started to kiss his soft pudge around Miles’s chest. Miles’s resistance to the position melted away as he felt Chris gentle tug at his sensitive nipples. The gentle caress of Chris’s mouth and the soft teasing of his dominant hand belied the iron grip holding Miles’s up.

Chris couldn’t believe how “responsive” Miles was to anything he’s done. But he tried to keep the slow pace to ease Miles’s onto his fingers as painless as possible. After Miles’s hole started to drip out a new wave of fluid, and his dick was dribbling cum as well, Chris decided to test Miles’s on his fingers at long last.

He pulled Miles’s up at a less extreme arch to reduce strain on his back.

“Mmmmm? What’s wrong?” Miles slurred. He was so relaxed and pliant he felt drunk on lust.

“Nothing, just gonna try something.”

Miles just grinned like a loon and responded.

“Try away big guy~” He leaned back again, fully trusting Chris to do whatever he thought to try.

      Chris started to ease his index finger into Miles’s cunt. His eyes went wide in surprisee as the thick digit didn’t find a ounce of resistance against it. Chris thought he’d have to go finger joint by finger joint and wait for Miles’s to adjust. But he kept moving in further waiting for some tight clenching warning him to stop. So he just kept easing in slowly until he was literally knuckle deep inside the pale reporter. He just froze in awe, feeling Miles’s hole softly flutter around his finger. Emboldened by the unexpected event, Chris curled the finger and tried to find the textured spot inside every cunt. Shifting around until he found the ridged spot on the upper part.  Finding it, Chris pressed his fingertip against the quarter size protrusion.

  Miles’s eyes watered as he tried to clench his lax hole around Chris’s fingers. But his cunt was too dilated from the hours upon hours of kissing, teasing, and external sex. Hell, his cock didn’t even soften that much after cumming all over Chris’s stomach and legs.  He muffled out Chris’s names through the shirt. He couldn’t see Chris’s face clearly due to the arch of his back, but he heard a huff of air like Chris’s half laughed after he moaned Chris’s name.

“I guess that means you want more of this” Chris pushed and pulled his finger hooked against Miles’s pleasure spot. The sensation that flooded Miles’s senses made him frantically try to thrust against the fingers further.

      Now Chris clearly chuckled as he pulled out his finger. Miles whined as he felt empty again. He pulled his head and upper body back up to glare at Chris. Miles’s eyes could set a house on fire with the frustration behind them. Christopher had finally finally finally started to fuck him and now chickens out! The sentiment of “how fucking dare you” was easily conveyed by Miles’s facial expression even with his mouth stuffed with his own shirt..

“Now now, don’t give me the death glare Milkie. I’m just moving us so you don’t break your back.”

     Miles meeped as Chris picked him up and chucked him towards the head of the bed. He flailed as he bounced a little upon landing. Thankfully he didn’t collide with the iron headboard. He barely had time to breath before Chris pushed his legs up and apart. Taking his rightful spot right between them, with Miles’s legs hooked on his shoulders. Miles’s face burned with a cocktail of unexpected modesty and arousal as Chris stared his now gaping cunt. Chris wasn’t completely hard , but he was harder then he’s been in fucking years. But he ignored his own throbbing groin pressed against the bedsheets , in order to focus on his young lover. Miles’s dick was steadily oozing seed down his abs. His cunt fluttered as fluid continued to slowly drip out. The entire room was filled with the intoxicating scent from the omega. As much as he wanted to press his face and smell the delicious scent wafting from Miles skin now was not the time. Miles wanted to get fucked as properly as he could provide. By god he was going to do it the best he could.

He watched the layers of new and old fluids mingle around Miles’s thighs as he ripped another lube packet with his teeth. The substance oozed out a dark sickly shade of navy blue as he spread it over his pointer and index fingers. The faint smell of berries mingled with Miles’s dark riveting scent.

       Miles’s squirmed as his dripping and exposed crotch felt freezing cold without Chris’s hand warming it up. The thin layer of cum covering everything wasn’t doing much help either.  Miles’s clenched his teeth as he watched Chris start to push two fingers into his core. Miles’s insides strained a little as Chris pushed the thick digits to the second joint into Miles before pulling back. The lube really helped but each Chris’s fingers were as thick as a thin dick. Two of any size dick in your hole is a challenge without some form of drug relaxant involved.

“Just breathe Miley. Remember to breath.” Chris softly whispered as Miles squirmed around him. Chris passed one of the lube packets to Miles. Who got the message and added more lube to his cock. Stroking himself more firmly then before to help him distract himself from the internal adjustments.

        Fuck, he's never felt this filled before. Even with his knotting dildos he's used for his heats. He felt so stretched and hyper aware of his own body, he could probably count the calluses on the large alphas fingers without looking. By oh fuck it felt divine as his body temperature  started to warm the lube. Despite Chris’s slow gentle movements ,the squelching sound of the excess lube and Miles’s own fluids filled the air. Making the intimate moment feel all the more filthy and perfect for the unraveling omega. Miles alternated between a soft and hard grip as he slowly stroked himself. He could already feel the pressure of climax build up inside him and they've barely started!

     Miles had closed his eyes as he focused on his breathing and the pleasure in between his legs. He was so caught up in moment he didn't realize Chris moved. Using his other hand to sit on his knees and practically have his upper body loom over  overwhelmed Miles. His new closeness only becoming blatantly obvious as he whispered against Miles’s collar bone. The deep pitch of his deep voice practically reverberated like a bass line in Miles’s chest.

“Just keep breathing Miles.” feeling his alphas teasing warm breath against his sensitive neck sent shivers down his spine.

“I got you I got you.” Chris huffed as he curled both his fingers inside Miles. Focusing now on solely stroking the same textured pleasure spot inside the smaller man. Miles clung to Chris’s shoulder as a gasp of pleasure took the wind out of him. Leaving him panting and gasping as Chris kept moving his fingers in the steady movements. Miles heart started to pound as his core temperature started to spike. Miles’s body even with all the gentle foreplay, was already over stimulated. To the point his arousal started to literally ache from the prolonged denial.

Miles’s whined in his haze. “Chrisssssss, pleassssseee”

“What? “ Chris stopped his fingers completely as he made sure his omega was okay. Which only pulled another whining whimper from the man beneath me.

“Fuck me already!! “ Miles pleaded as he shimmied his hips to push Chris’s fingers in faster.

“I don’t know, I kinda like having you squirming under me.”

“Fuck, please! Please! Let me cum.”  Miles pleaded as he tried to flail and move his body up against Chris’s bulk. Which was about as useful as throwing himself against soft wall installation over a brick wall, and expecting it to move.

“Hmmm, only cause you asked nicely.” Chris crooned as he sped up his movements a little. Miles moaned and gasped as the pressure built up inside him quickly. Sure enough, a couple slow moments later, Miles’s hit the second much higher peak. Surprising, Chris by how close to the edge Miles was again despite cumming a half hour earlier.

Chris petted Miles’s side as the man shuttered against him. Miles bit his lip as he let the second full body orgasm run its course. Needless to say, another wave of cum splattered around Chris’s hands and chest.

Chris pulled back only after Miles’s stopped shaking, to take off the soiled gauze off his face and used it to wipe away the excess fluids on either of  them. It at least helped get the jizz off both of them. He rolled onto his side and threw it in the trash in the corner. He moved around to lay next to Miles. Softly admiring his chest heave for air as he calmed down from the sex high. Miles turned his head and just smiled at Chris. “FUck Chrissie. That was awesome.”

“It was...fun to see you being so..reactive. Nice to know there’s a way to make you be quiet for a couple minutes.”

“I lasted longer than a couple minutes. Controlling yourself to achieve a consecutive orgasm is hard! I got two junks to control over here.” Miles huffed even as he caught his breath. And wiped the exertion sweat off his neck.

“Not by much. You really liked riding my fingers Miley.”

“Well, fucking god knows I would. Thick as real dicks I swear to god. I probably will feel a draft through my crotch now, but fuck I want to do that again sometime soon.”

“Maybe we should keep to one finger next time.”

    Miles’s lips flattened in a thin line. His cheeks rose a little higher as if he heard something awful. “Ehhhh, we’ll discuss that next time. But first, it’s my turn!” Miles crawled around Chris towards the end of the bed. jostling the messy sheets as he scrambled for traction as he moved. He took his place between Chris’s legs now. His smile and spark in his eyes practically lit up with determination as he reached closer to Chris’s half risen manhood.

“Your turn to do what?”

“Take care of you?” Miles said coyly as he used his hands to tease the granite hard thighs around him. Then going even farther by kissing Chris’s hips and stomach before going after the main goal.

“Chris, I told you I cann’ttt” Chris lost his chain of thought as Miles leaned over to start kitten licking the tip of his partial erection. It’s been a while since someone else was welcome to touch him, and even before that most didn’t bother to try anything with their mouth to him. His cock may not have been fully hard, but it still felt sensation of Miles’s soft lips and mouth graze and tease him. “Don’t worry, there’s more then one way to jack off a cock. I got this big guy, just lay back and let me do this.”

Chris fisted the sheets as he tried to lay down and relax. “Just don’t grab my balls. Their ticklish.”

“Like this?” Miles traced his thumb under the soft skin between his ass and his sack. Chris trembled as he fought the instinctive reflex to kick and flinch away.  
“Miles.” Chris warned firmly even as his body trembled from the contact.

“Fine fine. I’ll play with them NEXT time.” Miles declared as he looked Chris in the eyes as he kissed up the side of the hefty shaft.

  Chris fell back and groaned as Miles started to suckle and tease his foreskin with his entire mouth. Miles took the initiative to redouble his attentions and swallow the head and tease his tongue around it. Even going as far as using one had to spread the lube further up and down the rest of the cock and the other to keep Chris’s hip still as he worked. Between the warming lubed stroking and Miles’s clever mouth, both parties slowly dived into a haze of pleasure and focus. Their worlds boiled down to just them. To the sensations of Miles’s mouth and Chris’s hand petting his ungelled curls and their reactions to the other’s touch. Sadly, eventually Chris’s back started to cramp from leaning up to watch and guide Miles. Grunting in reluctance he leaned back onto the bed. “Fuck my back.”

Miles removed his mouth to smile up at Chris and push him to move further up the bed. He curled over Chris’s stomach and gave him a wink.

“Just move up a little and let me work. I said I got this big guy.” Chris groaned and melted down into the bed as he let Miles pleasure him. Letting himself gently thrust a fraction into Miles’s mouth. Miles didn’t gag at the motion, merely continued to ease his mouth up and down in rhythm with his hands on end of the shaft. He knew this probably wouldn’t lead further beyond this but fuck it felt amazing so who cares. He’s willingly to take whatever Miles is willing to give.

      Chris fisted the sheets when Miles started to push his mouth further down his cock. Miles’s wet warmth felt amazing but he didn’t expect to take more then a ¼ of it. He was pushing the limit hoping for that much given their sheer size difference and Chris’s girth. Chris was horny but he knew he wasn’t stupid enough to expect more then that. So he just focused on stilling his hips as Miles sunk deeper down Chris’s cock. Any minute now he expected Miles to reach his limit….any minute now? Chris flinched to move his weight on his arms as he got up partially to look over his stomach. Miles had swallowed over a third of his cock into his mouth and was easing himself further down. Chris in a panic tries to move further back and pull Miles away.

Internally he panicked “ O fuck, did I break his jaw? Did the walrider mess up his sense of pain? O god what did I do?!?”

Miles glazed eyes turned bright and confused as Chris yanked him by his hair off his cock.

His reflexes grabbing Chris’s hand before the man ripped off his scalp trying to pull him away.

“OWWowwowowow !” Miles took a deep breath before glaring up at Chris. He used the back of his hand to press against his jawline as he caught his breath. Chris was too busy trying to lean down and check Miles’s for any signs of tearing and blood. The trouble being the edible lube turned Miles’s lips and gums a dark shade of blue making it hard to discern lighter shades.

Miles glared over at Chris’s face as he barked at him. “What the fuck dude? I was in the zone!”

Chris tilted his head as Miles clearly and easily yelled at him from between his legs. Far more articulate and smoothly yelled then someone who should have a punctured throat or damaged lungs. “...You’re not bleeding?”

“Why would I be bleeding? Fuck, did your nails grow back already?” Miles felt the sides of his head to check for scratch marks.

Chris, still in shock muttered in explanation. ”I thought, I thought I ripped something when I moved my ,um hips when you started. ”

“Why? I didn’t gag or like, tap out by tapping your hands.”

“Because my um, girth is bigger than your mouth. I looked down and thought it was way too far down to not require stitchings or like messing up your organs.”

“Christopher Walker, I’m a cocksucker not a masochist. If I ripped anything for sex , it’s my pants getting naked. Anything else, I’d TELL YOU ABOUT IT.”

“I thought the Walrider like fixed stuff as it happens and I didn’t want to like fuck up your mouth for a blowjob.”

“I know my limits. I might have a adrenaline kink but I’m not that kinky or self loathing. I can unhinge my jaw, Christopher. I got hit in the jaw by a piece of construction as a kiddo and it screwed up my jaw enough I can unlock my jawline like a snake. And I don’t have much of a gag reflex anyway.”

“So….I didn’t like, fuck up your lungs and stuff?”

“I’m fine, see?” Miles fish hooked his mouth to show no blood and then lifted his chin to show no tearing in his throat or whatever Chris’s mind conjured as a sex injury.

“Seee? Now I can I finish you off now?”

“Uh, Miley I can’t get fully hard and cum, remember? You can keep going but nothing ‘ore is gonna happen.”

“Shun the non-believer” Miles said with the eerie cartoon tone of antagonists from the Charlie the unicorn cartoon. Chris cringed at the sudden and confusing voice change. Being not that well versed in internet pop culture, the voice just sounded like Murkoff Asylum level of crazy. Which given the absurd and violent nature of the reference source, is pretty fair.

“Miles what the fuck? Was that the creeper priest like possessing you? You still there?” Chris asked, completely concerned since they still don’t know how the Walrider works for a functional host outside the dreamer bubble.

Miles chuckled and replied. “No, I was referencing a meme and forgot not everyone has seen that unicorn crap on youtube. I’m fine but let’s just say, don’t count out a big finish just yet big guy.” Miles awkwardly winked at Chris before shuffling down between the wide man’s thighs again.

Chris tried to relax after grabbing a couple pillows to put under his back to make it easier to watch Miles work and still relax. It was somehow more comforting and more nerve wracking being able to look down at Miles and his clever mouth on his cock. Because common sense and previous sexual experiences itched at the back of Chris’s mind even as he enjoyed the amazing sensations at Miles’s affections.

    Every second Chris expected Miles’s to nudge too far down, gag and tap out to leave him alone. Which said a lot about Chris’s previous relationships altogether. But Miles knew his body and his limits, and focused on relaxing his throat and doing that stupid thumb grip trick to placebo his confidence. He could still use that hand to tease Chris’s granite hard calves because, why _not_? Miles already knew the first time he drinks in front of Chris he’s probably gonna ask Chris to squish him with his calves. It’s how any kinky bisexual would want to die, death by demi-god thighs in the pursuit of a phenomenal knot. A greek tragedy in between two legs. Which says a lot about Miles’s period.

So Chris just focused on trying to stay calm but kept one hand on Miles’s collarbone just incase he damaged his airway. Miles was all but jabbing half of Chris’s firming cock far past his tonsils. Chris groaned and twitched as his manhood delved deep into the latino’s throat. Barely feeling the graze of teeth as Miles’s drool dripped down past his knot as he slowly teased the alpha.

“Don’t go too far. Slow Miles. Just stop whenever you’ve had enough.”

    The sight of Miles’s  devious glee reflected in those dark eyes and his lips around his chock,  sent shutter up Chris’s spine. If anything , Miles just took the comment as a formal challenge that he accepted in terms. Miles swallowed Chris almost 2/3s down  in the span of a heartbeat. Making wicked use of his tongue around the column in his throat. And making sure to use both hands to wrap around the base he couldn’t reach yet.  The level of aggressive affections were only inflamed by the perceived challenge. Chris in shock grabbed Miles’s by the collarbone to push him back just enough.

“SLOWER”

Miles marginally backed up. If his mouth wasn’t full, his face would likely look like a sour lemon expression.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself….please?”

Miles breathed heavy through his nose before sliding off Chris’s cock.

“Fine. But no more back throat driving unless you know what you want me to do with my tongue or something.”

“Okay….just slow okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just try to unclench already. Your legs are strung harder than your cock. Just relax my dude.”

Chris gruffed in confirmation as he tried to lay further back again.

    Miles did go slower this time and settle for only reaching half way down. Taking his time stroking up and down Chris’s cock with his mouth and hands. Alternating between focusing on his tongue and the suction of his wet lips around the edges. Chris melted as the anxiety melted away from the stimulating pleasure. Just trying to enjoy the moment for once, admiring Miles’s cautious acts while rubbing the smaller man’s shoulder and petting his pretty wavy hair.  Just focusing his mind on how good Miles feels with him and how soft his body felt against his.

     It was a gradual rise of pleasure for the larger man. Over time , Miles’s mouth started to drip heavily due to the pressure against his tongue. The wet sound of Miles’s mouth echoed through the room. Chris couldn’t hold back a groan as Miles slowly sunk lower and hummed around his cock.Chris after catching his breath from the thrilling sensation, vaguely remembered a similar, far worse sensation to what Miles’s just did. The closest thing was a uncomfortable vibrating setting on a sex toy for rutting alphas he used as teenager. This was infinitely better , in every possible way.

Pondering the vague memory of his youth and still feeling Miles’s sopping wet mouth, brought to mind of Miles’s other wet opening. Chris started to lose himself in a daydream of how Miles would act during a heat rut.

“Would he be louder when he’s in heat? Just screaming and clawing my back and begging for my knot? Or would Miles shudder out soft sounds as he bites his soft lips as I tease his delicious cunt with my mouth and tongue?”

  Chris’s mind fluttered around a million little questions of how and ifs , for when he and Miles can finally be knotted as Alpha and Omega in the biblical sense. The soft thoughts and intense actions of Chris finally allowed Chris to fully lose himself in pleasure. Miles’s ego inflated as he felt the telltale throbbing twitch of Chris’s cock against the roof of his mouth. Chris was about to experience his first dry orgasm.

 On that note, Miles’s threw caution to the wind and bobbed further down Chris’s cock and gripped the lubed base harder as he felt Chris start to rise quickly towards orgasm. Even go so bold as use one hand to tease Chris’s sensitive balls as he deep throated hummed Chris’s cock.

        It was too much, and gradual pleasure rose quickly into a shattering climax. Chris fought to remember how to breath as the sensations consumed his senses.  Chris lost in the moment pulled Miles’s head into place . Oblivious to the power of his grip, leaving purple fingerprint bruises on Miles’s collarbone and back of his neck. His cock barely producing a dribble of cum as he trembled from the waves pleasure. Miles momentarily gagged from being pushed down farther but didn’t fight it and focused on breathing through his nose until Chris’s grip lightened up. After a minute or two, the most intense part of the climax passed. Allowing Chris to reclaim some semblance of awareness beyond his body. And letting go of Miles’s head and shoulder from the tight grip. Stroking the wavy curls of Miles’s hair before pulling him up onto his stomach.

Miles being partially thankful he already came, because might have jizzed himself when Chris pinned him if he hadn’t. Miles smiled widely at Chris, leaning his chin on Chris’s chest and looking up at him.

“Well that was fun.”

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“No, it’s fine dude. We have to do that again soon. Good motivation to get my work done quickly and everything sorted.”

“Yeah…”

“What’s the face?’  
“Nothing…..I just don’t know what to do. Like, yeah I know I want to be with you but what do I do until this bullshit is dealt with. I’m not really useful unless a mercenary shows up with a boot knife or something explodes.”

“Dude, you earned some relax time with wifi and tv after the shit you’ve probably seen.”

“I don’t like lounging a lot. I feel useless as a extra set of nipples on a boy mule.”

“Well then , we gotta find something to keep you occupied that isn’t private time….”

A figurative light bulb turned on above Miles’s noggin and his eyes light up as he barked.

“THE FILES IN MY BAG.” Miles shot up and bounced to the floor and grabbed his bag before Chris could cover his ears from the close shouting.

“Volume Miles.”

“ **Sorry, The files! You worked at Murkoff, you know what the corporate lingo means and you had a email with work memos sent to it!”**

“Miles, volume!”

“Sorry. I mean, you had a work email! You can read some of the text memos and what the weird phrasing and font changes mean. I assume they meant stuff like “new materials coming in” meant like “we got new people to torment”. You can tell me what the emails actually mean!”

“Yeah, I guess. But they might have changed some stuff and I was just a guard so I didn’t get a lot of emails to begin with.”

‘It’s still better than nothing and I kinda stole every loose piece of paper at the asylum I could find that wasn’t covered in blood and shit.” Miles pulled out wad after wad of paper stacks out of his satchel like it was a office clown car.

“I guess. But this is a tomorrow problem okay?”

“...okay. Yeah, it’s what? 10 PM?” Miles looks to the clock, it was 2:20 in the morning.

“Uh, yeah, bed seems sane right about now.”

     Chris moves only far enough up the bed to lift the blankets up so he could pull the blankets out from the sides. Before setting them on top of his body. It was so fast and well done, it was like a poor man’s magic show. The man wanted to get some shut eye next to his omega, and short sheeted bed was’t getting in the way of that. Miles giggled as Chris pulled the thick dusty blanket up next to him and patted the bed.

“You coming?”

“I already have.”

Chris just rolled his eyes at Miles as the man walked back from the chair on the other side of the room.

“Always gotta be smart.”

“Yes dear, of course dear.” Miles said quietly as he nestled in the tent blanket and cuddled close to his alpha. Chris just huffed and smiled as he pulled Miles in closer as they faded into slumber.


End file.
